Half broken memories
by Hideki Tensei
Summary: After the C-Kira case was over, Near felt everything will be back to normal. With a new yet vague case dropped in his hands,a disturbing thought assails him, making him question the kind of life he's living from now on. Will things change for him?
1. Future

Disclaimer: Death note is owned by Ohba Tsugumi and Obata Takeshi. I own the OC.

--

Author's Notes: a fit of an idea stuck in my mind after I've watched episode 37 and read the one-shot chapter 109 in the manga, and I just have to vent it out. _This story follows the chapter 109 of the Death Note manga._ If you want to read about chapter 109, you can go to my profile and see the link I've placed.

Here goes. (holds breath) Meanwhile, read it slowly, k? ;D

July 7, 2008 - Revised

--

**Half broken memories **

_A fiction created by Hideki Tensei_

**Chapter 1:**

**Future**

_Year 2013, April 23_

_After the cheap-Kira case incident_

_-The SPK headquarters-_

In an exclusive wide room just beside the main stronghold of the SPK headquarters were rows upon rows of painstakingly constructed tarot card towers, so many in multitude it was hard to tell what figure it formed, but individually, they seemed to form the shape of an "L". The throng of cards continued till the vast reaches of the room, appearing like a sea of triangle-patterned cards. At the edge of it all, Near crouched on his legs, quietly building up a new batch of an "L" figure from the bottom.

He took a card from the deck lying plainly abandoned amidst all the jumble around him, surreally balanced it on top of the other to form a triangle pattern, then moved on to do the same thing next, his focus and concentration entirely fixed upon his work.

Although his external appearance might fool anyone looking at him now and mistake him to be a manic, extremely meticulous young man wasting his time building his own empire of cards, his mind incredibly works thrice its critical thinking process, piecing up clues and hints about murder and mystery cases which he will eventually solve.

With the end of the recent cheap-Kira case however, it all changed. Near had spent years investigating Kira, and now that he won and there was nothing grand enough to solve, he couldn't help feeling empty again when he shouldn't have. And he didn't know why.

Maybe the excitement was over. The thrill of expectation had died down… it was back to business again. Back to the usual normal cases he could solve in one day.

He sighed.

He knew he shouldn't be feeling this way. He should be glad the Kira case is over, and that the most dangerous weapon in the world, the Death Note, was gone forever. Inwardly frustrated at the enigma of a feeling taking over him, Near attempted to brainwash himself and focus on balancing the cards, meanwhile let his mind drift to the case currently in issue.

_The case was about a secret research institution in Russia, abducting intelligent and talented children all over the world then brainwashing them in order to suit their purpose. Because of the institution's secrecy and great influence, nobody knew it existed. Some suspected it but they did not go so far as to claim it was truly there. Supposedly, the one who filed the case was an anonymous man who witnessed the crime taking place, but the means by which he contacted the SPK was questionable too. His testimony was doubtful--suspicious at most._

_But regardless, it was handed to them as a mystery case, and it should be solved… Gevanni had already confirmed the existence of the said institution after gathering outsider information. The gradual decline of noted intellectuals around the area were diminishing at a fixed rate at certain time. Therefore, the information the caller alleged had to be real._

"_But there's no hard evidence to indict this case… if there is, it will remain vague." _Near thought, annoyed, _"The caller didn't bother presenting himself as a normal victim by leaving official information either. At this rate, investigating the case in the dark like this would act like a double edge sword…"_ It felt like a joke that meant to lash out at him.

Somebody had to provide him with concrete evidences or clues before he can take a move to solving it, didn't they know that? Frustrated, Near tried focusing on the single clue he received, but it was more like a description than a clue.

Given the circumstances of the call he received yesterday and the information provided, he had every right to be doubtful and reject this case as _hopeless_.

No one was _supposed_ to know about the personal telephone number the SPK keep at the headquarters… Except for the people who had to be kept in the dark about Near's identity, they would have the chance of hacking it... Otherwise, the telephone number was off limits to outsiders. With its one way tracking device, the phone cannot record or trace any incoming and outgoing call, as it deletes it right after it was made.

So what about the identity of this suspicious caller?

The "caller" was a guy. Near was incidentally alone when the call was made, and he had picked it up, and listened to his incoherent words telling him to save his little girl on the phone, emotionally strangling in his grief meanwhile pinpointing about the Russian research institute as crazily depicted as possible. Near even remembered he described it as an asylum. The man was not giving any details at all. If he only knew he was not helping.

_Just when did the SPK turn into a hotline for distressed and borderline people seeking help?_ He thought, remembering how the caller hanged up after giving him the "details". Then again, he wondered why Quillsh's specialized telephone had to erase all the incoming and outgoing data if it was going to be of any aid to the SPK's investigation at all. But that was beside the point.

Was this even a case? Judging from the facts Gevanni had given, it could be. That is, Gevanni had given descriptions of the institute, clues coming from flighty rumors taken from the local bar and restaurant, and several obvious data, all in one day's tour to gather surface information. That was all.

If they were going to solve it—if _Near_ decided he wished to solve this… it would seem like a complete waste of time and effort to invest on. First of all, the client was not referred or came from the FBI, which naturally should have been for all his cases. The caller could be any stranger out to test them for all they know.

But there was the fact that it was clearly a mystery case… the caller being anonymous in the first place was one of the reasons he should undertake it. It was Near's nature.

"Gevanni," Near pushed the call button on the monitor screen and was promptly answered by an affirmative voice.

"Near."

"…I want you to continue investigating the institution in Russia."

A momentary silence met his command. Gevanni, Near thought, must be struggling for control as he heard him. He must be as confounded as he is. But like him, he knew he had no choice but to cooperate and solve it.

_Throughout the years of investigating Kira, SPK officially became an investigation team comprising of the same four members and up till now, still continues to solve cases despite the end of the Kira case. The team members, Anthony Lester, Stephen Gevanni and Halle Lidner were now officially part of the group, owing to the fact that they intended to pursue their respective jobs. _

"…Yes." Gevanni's tight reply resumed, as though forced it to come out willingly, "Do you have any special instructions for this case?" he thought it proper to ask. Gevanni didn't want to look unwilling to do his part.

Near thought it over, then shrugged. It was really unavoidable. "Maintain your anonymity. Keep your identity under cover as much as possible. Judging from the anonymous call I received, someone already knows what we do. But this is not reason for us to expose ourselves recklessly." He narrated gravely, "Gevanni, I want you to report immediately after you have gathered information."

"…Understood."

He hanged up, leaving the phone beeping the busy dial tone.

"_Someone knows our identity. Although it was a simple call, the distress of the caller seeking for help was made apparent and clearly aimed at us. What could be the purpose..?" _Near thought, his facial expression turning into a grimace as he wracked his mind for an answer but found none. He could only speculate and assume endlessly. _"If it was to move us into investigating that institution, that would be a complete giveaway. The caller would not have bothered calling the personal number if it were only to inform us of human trafficking. He did not go through lengths to find out the personal number just for that… it has to be a motive…an indication… or a warning?" _

Twirling a lock of his hair in his finger distractedly, Near glanced at the phone lying in front of the giant monitor as he crouched in the same sluggish way, narrowing his obsidian eyes, contemplating. The phone was specifically designed to be untraceable, so incoming and ongoing calls have no records whatsoever. It was made that way for the anonymous dealings he has to make as a detective. Now because of that, it became part of the puzzle he needed to solve.

Standing himself languidly, all 5 feet 8 inches of his height, he walked towards his kingdom of tarot cards, sat down on his legs, then began the meticulous work of balancing the tarot cards on top of each other. His thoughts tried to dwell on the case, but after a while of echoing silence and solitude, it inevitably veered into nothingness until he was no longer aware he was not thinking at all.

Near focused his complete attention on the pattern of the cards, his mind totally blank. The room remained in silence, cloaking the area in quiet concentration, and only his breathing can be heard. As he was placing the next card on top of another, he shifted his foot comfortably. That's when the shuffling sounds from his foot awakened him to reality.

And it was in that moment of distraction that the thought thudded in his mind like a heart beat, stopping everything in place.

_What does the future hold for you, Near? _

_If you continue doing all this puzzles and solving mysteries, will you live?_

…

_Just like that?_

Near halted, numbness taking over his body and paralyzing him in an instant…

The silence ate away as the implication stamped and adhered itself to his mind, infecting every single shred of logic he had left.

Those words… The tone of the voice reminded him of a mother. Probably a mother he never knew of, but its tone was unmistakably maternal--_implacably_ caring.

_You do nothing but solve mysteries every day. You don't do anything else._

_Do you really want to continue your life like this?_

They can't possibly be true. Those thoughts did not just come out of his mind.

Or maybe--it might just have some truth in it.

In that span of time as he held the card in mid-air, his eyes stark wide and staring into nothingness and the cold, eerie voice asked the question in his mind, he always knew he dreaded to answer it.

Because it did not belong in his life. It was alien and out of place. It was a jargon language that didn't belong in his repertoire of logical reasoning and critical deductions.

Not once did the possibility occur in his mind of concerning himself with his own future.

People around him always gave him the support he needed, and he was always at his own pace, leisurely solving mysteries and cases through his great deductive mind. He had not experienced strife because he possessed an unwavering calmness in the most hectic of situations, so he didn't need to think anything will be enough to pull him down.

He _didn't have to_ care about his own welfare. And if it comes to it--if it would solve him the infamous Kira case, he would even go so far as to risk his life. He would do that much and still be unfeeling about his own life.

Until that disturbing thought came and aroused a part of him that was never there before, Near treated his life as was expected of him: to continue on L's legacy. It felt partly an obligation and a hobby.

Near only cared about winning and doesn't accept failures. As L's successor, he owed himself that much… Being L's successor means taking over what he had failed to finish. He was honed to appreciate at the same time excel in solving puzzles and mysteries clear cut. He has the same personality as L, even behaved like him. They have their own individual quirks and habits. They have many aspects in common.

Now, while all that is acceptable as standard to Near, he has one thing he could not vouch for: Would he also die like L?

L had died without finishing the case, and left it halfway through in the hands of Near. L lost his life abruptly, without living to experience the things life had to offer… Near knew L would probably care less about such mundane things as that, even if it was his choice.

But still, even if that were true, then it would be like accepting that his life was a mere instrument to be used in place of L's, a medium to continue his goal and live on in his name. A rather selfish advocacy…

For Near, it would've been all right. Even he could welcome the fact that he was being used by the orphanage to carry on what L had started. Near admired L. He admired his ideal in life and what he did to achieve it because it _felt _the same with his.

Yes, it felt the same, until recently.

The question that popped out of nowhere when his mind had temporarily gone blank was a great quake which shook many of his beliefs, making him doubt for the first time.

If he had lived his life for L's…

_What about him then? What's his worth? _

_Did his life's purpose stretch so far only to fill in the position as L's successor, solve puzzles and play with his toys all his life? _

That was the core of the question's implication. That part of him _cared _for himself.

And it disturbed him.

Near didn't like contradicting himself, but right now, that was what the question in his mind had formed. Out of the strict, impenetrable boundaries of Near's own belief's and perceptions in life, in that circle of tight discipline and single-minded way of thinking, pushes a new thought out of the blue and into the black. Like a very notorious visitor. It was like introducing all other jargon terms into the picture: remembering the family he never had, the friends he never made, the life he never touched, and the society he had never breached.

He was a loner--

_Alone._

If everyone around him disappears, he would shrivel and crumble due to sheer lack of support.

The people around him: the SPK, the orphanage, Roger… they were his backbone. And without them, he was nothing.

He was just a boy who keeps to himself and plays in his own world… He had the brains, but he lacked the skill to live life to support himself.

And it was the truth.

"…no…" a ragged whisper issued from his tight lips, almost coming out like a whistle in its hoarse-like quality. The hand grasping the tarot card in mid-air was white-knuckled and clenched tightly, making the card bent slightly due to the force. His palms were sweating, his skin cold and clammy. The temperature around him felt like it had dropped. His eyes were wide and staring into space as he breathes heavily. But he was not aware.

His entire world focused on the implication.

No, he cannot accept the fact that his mind had just proved him very _wrong. _

Nate River was not someone who accepted losing…_ever_.

He was not someone who easily accepts that his decisions were indecisive, not for once.

With the thought grinded into his mind, Near picked up the pieces of himself, relaxed his hands and regained slowly through a blur of consciousness that saw only half of what's in front of him. The rows upon rows of the "L" figure loomed before him like a fanatic testament of his devotion. There were countless towers of "L", all of them, he realized with startling clarity, were constructed by his own hands.

He looked at it with something like skepticism and a bit of frustration, as though he wondered briefly how he could do that and at the same time angry for thinking these thoughts.

He was "L"! Of course he would keep constructing his own pseudonym in order to think critically! What else would it be?! His thoughts hammered back in response.

Only then did he notice a solid, thin object he was holding. It was the card he was clutching with a death grip. Turning it around to look at it, he saw it had the name of the "Fool", a grinning mask of a clown peering behind black sockets for eyes, its face painted in a mocking grimace of a smile—

_--Dancing, taunting him for his stupidity... mockery brimming in its face that seemed to tell him he was wrong all these time, laughing endlessly at him…_

Infuriated with himself, he clenched his fist and stood, the card still in his grip. He stared hard at the face of the card with the "Fool" arcana on the front, frozen in time as it jeered at its viewer. His eyes could not root itself from its spot. The very laugh of the Foolish clown echoed around his mind, taunting him.

_You will die a-lone... you will die a-lone… isn't that sad? You can't live by yourself. If everyone leaves, you will die, Near..! _

_Just like L!_

The Fool's rictus of a smile seemed to be forming the words, rebounding in all quality until he felt it overpowering all his logic. All the years spent cloaked in heavy solitude crashed down the pipe… and it was all because of that thought.

The L towers seemed to share the Fools mockery. Standing there, its message was suddenly very clear to him. Just now, he began to doubt his ability to think what was right.

He was building L's kingdom all this time.

In an attempt to shut the foreign thoughts out, Near, frustrated even more at losing control of his emotions, felled the towers upon towers of "L" tarot cards before and around him. The towers around him felled at first, then the falling cards fell on the others and caused it to collapse too, until soon, L towers were collapsing under his foot.

And even as he watched with clouded, hard eyes, Near was determined to build another empire. And he will make sure it was his own.

--

Anthony Lester, the operation leader of the SPK, was still the pillar of the investigation team after the Kira case, with only Near as the main director. Now, he stands before the door leading to the wide room specifically crafted for Near's hobby of building tarot cards. Since the cards were such a nuisance when it comes to them especially during emergencies, the area was moved into another room, this time twice the size and height.

Near liked to do things by himself. It was one of the established norms within the confines of SPK, and the personnel were obliged to know it.

So there was no reason for Lester to hesitate whatsoever. He was only here to deliver a message.

Weird though… He thought he heard something like rain falling heavily at the other side of the door. As queer as that may be.

However, his curiosity and interest at Near's progress with the tarot card towers outweighed him, and Lester gave the door a healthy tug and pushed it all the way to the side, only to gape at the sight before and around him.

The tarot card towers with the "L" figure…

Like a magnificent display of domino blocks trampling one after another, the tower collapsed one by one like fragile pieces of wood. He first thought he saw a grand palace falling apart, then with a sudden pang of clarity realized what he heard to be heavy rain was actually the fall of thousands of cards on top of each other. From the outer Ls going inwardly to the center, it was like an orchestrated masterpiece going after another.

Near's empire was collapsing before his eyes... the months of effort he did crumbled.

Mesmerized at the sheer implication of it all, Lester had not strength to stop this… in his heart he felt utterly responsible though. With guilt, he realized he can blame himself. Perhaps it was the sound of the opening door which startled Near and caused him to topple the entire block of cards?

If it were so…

Apprehensive more than anything about Near's safety being crashed by all those cards, Lester finally broke his immobility and jumped forward towards the cascade of cards all around him. Meanwhile, as he frantically searched for the young man, his mind kept rewinding:

How can this be possible?

Lester could not take the possibility that Near might've lost his concentration and wrecked the entire towers. He had not done that for years. Maybe something else happened…

He darted his eyes to and fro. Amidst the rain of falling cards, he could barely make out anything. Panic was starting to engulf him, but he must remain calm.

Damn it! Where was Near?

The first knot of anxiety crept up his stomach, constricting it with unease. In the worst case scenario, he would be swallowed alive amidst the torrent of all these cards if he can't move…

Throughout the years, Lester had become more like Near's bodyguard and second hand man. He was always there to carry out his orders, and he was someone who could question Near's actions if it didn't seem right.

Now the big man was worried something might've happened to him…

A break, a fracture, loss of consciousness…

As he scanned the surroundings, he suddenly became aware of a distant blurry figure from afar. It was hard to tell because it was like the color of the card rain around him, but after a moment's staring and analyzing, he found out it was him.

No doubt.

Only he could crouch like that even when everything's falling apart around him.

And as Lester crossed the distances to reach his place, he recalled that time when the angry mobs had invaded their headquarters and Near had made his decision at the brink of time, as calm and unfazed as ever could be.

And then he wondered again what could've caused this downfall.

Lester reminded himself again that it couldn't be that he lost his focus. No, he can't believe that.

--

Near watched the falling cards all around him like it was snow flakes, his obsidian, unseeing eyes appeared to be reveling at the spectacle before and around him. So this was how an empire falls.

Seeing his efforts rain down upon him made him feel content. Now half of the bothersome thoughts would go away for a while.

As the cards began to fall, Near decided to enjoy the scene and find himself a nice, sitting spot right where the cards would not build up and trample him. And then, he sat on his two legs and waited.

Not long after, a voice came calling out. At the first call, he immediately knew who it was. Obviously.

"Near! Near!" Lester's harried voice called out from beyond the storm, penetrating it amidst all the confusion, "Are you alright?!"

The young man merely sat and glanced at the direction of the voice. Finally, Lester emerged and reached him, heaving and anxious at the same time.

"Near, I have to get you out of here. Let's go." He extended his hand and without waiting for Near's reply, hauled him up and dragged him away from the storm. Just like the job of a bodyguard.

The younger man did not even protest when Lester had finally let go of him and he sank down by the corner, drained. He had time to wonder what was going on with this child prodigy's head that made him commit suicide back there…

As if in answer to his questions, Near spoke.

"The L towers were constructed in such a way that leaves a space on the center. That area, although surrounded by towers, would be free of cards." He said as he stared into the distance, his eyes fixed upon the falling pieces of tarots.

And only then did Lester understand.

Near did not intend to commit suicide after all. He consciously toppled the towers himself.

"But why crash something you've worked hard building?" the question was out before he could think twice about it. He couldn't help it.

This time, Near looked at him, and he could've sworn he saw something different reflected on those eyes..

"I realized… I should have made N instead of L." with a wry smirk that made his eyes seemed harder than ever, Near left through the open door, leaving Lester staring after him.

Whatever could he mean?

He found he could not formulate any answers or even guesses to that.

That young man...

Near was certainly unpredictable no matter how he looked at it. Up till now, Lester didn't know Near would have any deviations from the legendary L. But just this once, Lester wanted to believe it. Near was unfathomable… but just this once, he also wanted to believe that there was a reason behind this, like L does.

--

End notes: Any reviews except flames will be dearly appreciated! Review and tell me if I should continue because I'm having second thoughts of continuing and this was meant to be a one-shot, but since a plot popped in my head after a while, I figured I have to make it by chapter.

This chapter was originally meant to be a pilot chapter, but I made it as chapter-ish as possible while I get back on my studies. Therefore, nothing is definite at first: the summary and title, even my penname is likely to change. I hope this won't be of any inconvenience to you.

Until then! I'll update maybe in a week or earlier.

-kit


	2. Greetings

Disclaimer: Death note is owned by Ohba Tsugumi and Obata Takeshi. I own the OC.

--

July 7, 2008

Author's notes: The reviews have truly delighted me, _domo arigatou_ everyone! (wide grin) It pleases me to know that you have enjoyed what I considered to be a passing whim, and the reception is all I needed to know that I should continue onwards. Meanwhile, I will try to live up to your expectations while enjoying myself at the same time. _Kambate!_ let's all have fun! ;D

--

Chapter Summary: Near takes the first step to disprove his own self… _With Near's sudden thoughts concerning his own future and the contradiction of his beliefs, he has now decided that he must be capable of living all by himself without anybody's help in order to prove the thoughts—or rather, himself, wrong. Whatever caused the thought to come alive didn't matter at the very least, because he was determined to win. Seeking the help of a trusted acquaintance, Near knows just what he has to do to earn his victory… _

**Half broken memories **

_A fiction created by Hideki Tensei_

**Chapter 2:**

**Greetings**

_April 24, 2013_

_A day after the commencement of the investigation with the Russian research institute, Near boarded the private jet owned by the Wammy's and took the flight to England. _

_07:13 am_

_-Inside the private jet-_

As Near watched the drifting puffs of cloud rolling past outside his window, he was certain Roger was the only one he could count on for this problem.

Since all the SPK members were already booked for the investigation by the time the thought assaulted him, they were out of reach at this point. And it was suicide to call them back for the sake of asking them to handle this "problem". It was obviously personal… That compared to the dire situation of the case, the case weighed far more. Besides, the scope of the SPK's duty stretched only until work. Near knew it must never be mixed with his own issues.

And so far, this was the first time he had encountered a personal problem of this magnitude.

It felt like an obligation to solve it first hand, like learning to tie his shoe laces before walking. And it had to be taken cared of before he _did_ stepped in deep to solve the case. At this rate, with his mind's rigid defenses broken down and vulnerable, he had to set grounds where he could still stand and face himself without knowing he failed, and having that failure chase after his waking moments.

Details and instructions were already given to the members, along with reporting immediately after they have gathered crucial information.

It was the least he could do. Because, right now, he had pressing issues to handle with himself first. If he doesn't take care of this before anything, he doubt he would be able to think straight with the new thought taking over his mind every once in a while, reminding him just how self-reliant he is. That wouldn't be too good for the outcome of the case.

_08:15 am_

_-The Wammy's House-_

_Winchester, England_

It was an ordinary day in the orphanage. On a Saturday like this, the orphans were given all the free time of their lives to play outside and do everything they want, so it was especially noisy outside.

Inside its walls however, in Roger's office, the distractions outside didn't seem the least to bother the old man, who was currently worked up with the news he received just that morning. The tension was high in the air, constricting it with an underlying sense of panic and anxiety.

News of Near's upcoming arrival was immediately connected to Roger, the new director of the orphanage, much to his alarm.

"Near is coming this morning?!" he rasped at the agent who brought him the news, staring at him wide-eyed .

"Yes." the stocky-built agent replied, unperturbed, "The private jet was used without notice early this morning at around 4 am. The plane is scheduled to arrive at 6am, today."

Roger hastily glanced at his watch, then cried out loud in shock, "It's 8:15! He should be here—"

Without further warning, the door creaked open and in came Near, dressed in his usual attire of white long sleeves and trousers, except that he had a denim jacket on. He took this off sluggishly, to which the agent nearby readily received and hanged on the coat hanger.

Roger could only stare at the visitor.

The least he expected was for Near, L's successor, to come and pay a very abrupt and uncalled visit to the orphanage.

_He always dreaded it when he receives abrupt news; just like the report of L's death. It was made via cell phone, and it had bothered him until now. L didn't show his face much in the orphanage so he was pretty much considered to be physically absent but mentally present, like he can keep tract of the people inside the orphanage even when they don't see him. It was amazing but the fact is, Roger felt creepy about it. L's death had hit him like an impact, and from then on, any abrupt news he received regarding the geniuses made him pale. It probably had to do with his dislike of kids. _

It didn't help that Near was suddenly back here after a long time. And to add to his appall, the young man didn't inform him of coming and just stepped in lightly like he was some guest. Good lord, but _he was Near! L's successor!_ His mere appearance could give him a heart attack; at least he should have some care! Didn't he know he was about to consider him dead after being gone for so long, only to return? Young men these days…

But maybe... something was afoot to make him come like this so unannounced.

"I came to discuss about my future." Near said as though in answer, his tone physically blank and emotionless.

Roger, feeling like a giant gong was just banged in his head, had time to show his feelings of shock and bewilderment combined, "…C-Come again? I'm afraid… I don't understand what you mean…" he said narrowly, afraid more than confused what he might say will change Near's next words.

_Years of dealing with delinquents made him keen to these kinds of implications, and he knew the moment Near asked what it is he wanted and stalled for an excuse._

As if it could do anything. Roger hated to accept what it is he was thinking, but the young genius said it anyway.

"My future. I want to create a stable future." patiently, Near explained. Although his voice was as blunt as ever, the faint hint of annoyance was jarring its surface, to which the old man noticed.

But instead, he refused to acknowledge the implication. "…For the SPK members? I understand. Insurances were already handed out to their families and their bank accounts, not to worry." he didn't realize he was already rambling.

Near stared at him, his expression edging near annoyance.

Roger, noticing this, felt a tired sigh escape his lips; it was no use. Near knew _he knows_. Of course. If possible, he would even accept the fact that the 22 year old lad already knew what he was thinking. He sighed again, adjusted his eyeglasses, and uttered, "You mean _your_ future?" he said quietly.

Near nodded.

Momentary silence met his gesture. Roger tried to pick up the pieces of himself while thinking hard…

L's successor had just proclaimed he wants his own future. Even L had not done that.

_But Near is not L. If they were the same in many ways, this one aspect made them different_, he thought.

The director of the orphanage knew the obvious truth behind the "future" he wanted, but instead asked, "Do you want to choose a successor?" trying to play dumb and not knowing what he wants. If there was still chance to change his thinking, he would take it. Roger cannot believe the orphanage's protocols would have to be overrun by him and tried again.

But Near, unshaken and wholly determined, shrug his head firmly, "No. I want to secure my own future… By learning what I don't know." he concluded.

From the corner of the room, it was a good thing the agent had shades on so his expression can't be seen. Except for the twitching of the corners of his lips and the bridge of his nose, he looked as impassive as ever…which was good, the old man thought. This conversation was turning more personal by the moment. Near didn't seem the least to notice it.

Roger, however, had a greater reaction. He had arched his graying eyebrows at the young prodigy, at last accepting his answer as his final decision.

"Are you certain of this, Near? …Do you wish to abandon detective work?" he nearly whispered at him.

"Yes." No hesitancy there. Not even a pause of uncertainty or doubt. None... Near knew what he was talking about.

He was serious.

Near sure as hell was determined to "secure his future"… He should have known the lad would not say anything he was not sure of. He knew he had no choice but to abide. Policy rules.

"Alright then." He sighed wearily, "If that is what you wish… What do you want for your future?" his tone had now switched from callous to that of a counselor. The person he's talking to is still a growing up orphan, and as the director and adviser of the orphanage, it was his task to be of help and guidance to his subordinates and herd them in the right path.

Now it was Near's turn to be silent. He couldn't think of an answer. What did he want for himself?

Throughout the years, all he ever wanted to do was solve puzzles and mysteries out of pure whim and hobby, but choosing those for a future isn't too clever. He has to think of something concrete, something that would allow him survival if he's left on his own…

"…I want to…learn everything I can." he finally said, the first traces of emotion in his voice, "I don't know dealing with people or cooking a meal for myself." he said bluntly, remembering L's love for sweet foods. If he doesn't know how to cook, how will he eat? The fact decided for him.

"I need to be taught." He finally said, his straight-forward voice was without any sign of shame.

_Standing here before me is a man who is not afraid to tell his misgivings_, the director thought. How Near had changed..! But why? He could only guess…and help.

"Hm, you want to be taught? Very well…" Roger reached for the telephone on his desk and began to dial when he paused and looked back at Near. He couldn't help noticing he was already grown up and past his teens… Near was already 22 years old and for all those years of having known the lad, Roger still cannot tell what was going on in his mind. Yet, there was something about him right now faintly reminded him of a child yet to step outside the world and make himself known.

They talked of his future, his social status, and what to do with his life like a counselor to a patient. He discussed these things normally, whereas a man of his age and equivalent social knowledge would be very embarrassed and ashamed. It just tells how much Near needed to learn, and Roger was suddenly determined to help him. It was his job.

"Do you truly wish for this Near?" Roger inquired one last time. He has to be sure, and if it would help, he will ask him again just to make sure he wasn't having any doubts. But Near knew what he wanted.

"Yes." The same answer was filled with conviction, stronger than before, "I wish to be taught." The words were clear and firm. If he had any doubts, he would have seen through it.

The old man sighed, "Very well…" dialing numbers on the phone, he waited then after a few moments was answered. His expression was gay and bright as he exchanged friendly amenities and agreements with the other end, looking every bit like he was enjoying every moment. At that point, Near concluded he must be talking to someone he was very well acquainted with…which was probably good. It would make the transaction a lot easier.

And as the director of the orphanage replaced the handle of the ancient phone back to its receiver, Roger had already hired the best teacher in socials, economy, livelihood, business, health and every other field imaginable.

"The instructor will be arriving in a few moments after I have arranged the private jet to fetch her. You can take this time to think about your decision, Near." The old man tried to persuade him again.

But Near was undaunted. His decision was final and irrevocable. "I have already made my decision. I'm going to learn." He said firmly, then left by the double doors.

Roger sighed wearily again as he sat on his seat. This meeting had thoroughly depleted him, he was almost keen to believe that he was aging by the moment.

--

_11:09 am_

-_inside Wammy's House, waiting room-_

The clock ticked by, silently echoing around the empty waiting room. Outside the windows, the Wammy's House was filled with the vibrant laughter of the children as they play tag and hide-and-seek. Each year, the orphanage always brings in new child prodigies to breed so it never seemed to run out of merry and playful inhabitants.

There were no idle moments in the orphanage. Except for those few who yearned for their own solitude, the orphanage was actually a very conducive place to learn and grow. Roger had undoubtedly been a fitting replacement of Quillsh Wammy throughout the years. Testimony of his enhancements was apparent even on the grounds and maintenance of the orphanage.

He was a good man, Near knew. But he was too reluctant for comfort.

Near can understand why he reacted so. L's successors were not reserved with a future of their own, he realized. The task expected of them was to carry on L's job and goals, not to think about anything else.

But Near had a more pressing issue right now. He was on a mission to quell the voices in his mind which was already driving him nuts. Because his own self was contradicting the beliefs he had held on for most of his life. He had to prove it wrong—prove to himself that he can live on his own.

Only then can he ever hope to return to his usual way of living…

That is, if he can survive through this.

Near glanced at the polished grandfather clock sitting on the corner of the room; its hands revealed 11:09 in the morning. Roger told him the instructor was supposed to arrive at 11am, but why weren't they here? The first strings of annoyance were starting to fray on his humble self.

--

_11:00 am_

_-outside the orphanage, entrance-_

The gate of the Wammy's House opened wide to welcome the black limousine which careened into its gravel pathways along the entrance and stopped in front of the mansion.

After a moment, the elegant doors of the limousine out front opened and out stepped a pair of high heeled austere executive shoes along with a matching pair of white stockings. The owner of the shoes stood up fully outside, her whole dress immediately unruffled and elegant, adjusted her fedora demurely, then held her bag on her other hand while scanning the entire length of the Wammy's House with a practiced eye and a professional smile on her pretty face.

"Don't you think this is just lovely, Vera?"

From the other side of the limousine emerged another woman, tall and elegant in her attire of cerulean and navy green two piece suit. She seemed dazed and disoriented as she watched the other woman, then glanced at the mansion.

The abrupt call and long travel had clearly taken its toll on her. She squint her emerald eyes to take a good long look at the structure as it was basked by the rays of the sun.

It was a beautiful sight to behold. The golden light had magnificently captured the reflection of colors from the tall antique windows, seeming to bring it back to time. The walls, although old, had a dwelling look of a castle serenaded by hundreds of colors which the sunlight had provided. Overall, an ordinary passerby would have been enthralled.

But not her. She kept her standards erroneously high.

"Perhaps." She said dismissively in a heavy British accent, turning to glance at the playgrounds on the far corner where the children played. The gravel floor was covered with dried leaves, the iron bars and see-saw rusty and shabby from years of continuous use, and the once bright cornflower paint on it had chipped off in some areas and dulled into the color of wheat. But the children didn't seem to mind as they happily played along.

It irked Vera Nieve Rothschild in some unfathomable way though.

"_How can they be so happy with those kinds of playthings?" _she thought.

"Vien, you're frowning. That's not good for a first impression, you know." reminded the woman who was dressed extravagantly.

Sighing, Vera shook her pert little head, "Anne, will you look carefully? It is this very environment which allows children to go along living in a carefree place with no one to guide them, making them grow up spoiled and uncultured. Their parents are gone, who do you think guides them around here?" she asked, rather mildly speculatively.

"Why, Roger Ruvie of course." Anne Beaumont piped in, meanwhile taking out the lacy fan on her bag and fanning herself daintily, "Sir Roger is a very kind and industrious man. He may be old and timid but he manages this orphanage very well." her tone was proud, to an extent.

Vera didn't mind her. She glanced at the mansion that was the Wammy's House once more, her finely curved brow arched in an unreadable expression. Annoyance? Disdain? It was hard to tell. Her stately background defining the way she sees things, this structure and environment wasn't enough in her eyes.

Before anything though, the mansion doors opened and out stepped Roger, wearing formal attire and appearing honorable in his stature. When he saw the ladies, a wrinkly smile lit up his face and seemed to lie about his old age. He came up to them with arms extended.

"Welcome! Pleasant greetings for coming all the way here in this orphanage. I'm confident the ride wasn't too rough for you?"

"No, not at all, Sir Roger." Anne was quick enough to put in, "Lady Vera here is fine as hay, weren't you Vien?

The woman looked at her companion's bright, shining eyes then understood. "…Yes."

"That is very well then!" he piped in with enthusiasm, "I can give you a short tour of the orphanage if you ladies aren't too exhausted. You might as well be acquainted with this place, don't you agree?"

"Certainly, Sir Roger." The lady beamed back a radiant smile, meanwhile hooking her arm to Vera's elbow to move her along. It was more of an effort to cover her unwillingness.

--

_11:10 am_

-_Wammy's House, waiting room-_

Near looked outside the windows, observing. Ten minutes had past since he glanced outside, and still, there doesn't seem to be any signs of visitors… until his sight drifted towards the entrance.

There in front, a limousine was parked. Its stark ebony color seemed to penetrate through the windows, and under the bright glare of the morning sun, it appeared harsh.

Why hadn't he noticed it before?

Near stared at the vehicle as though it were alien in his eyes, his heart suddenly pounding very loud in his ears. They had already arrived then, and right on time. He glanced at the double doors of the waiting room; any moment now and they will go through those doors.

The thought, although it did not make him panic, brought a tiny shred of uncertainty in his consciousness. To Near who was nearly unfeeling in anything about himself, this certainly was a marked improvement.

What will he do in their presence? This meeting was specifically made for him. _For him! _He will be dealing with people who did not concern cases or will solve help him solve the puzzle. They were ordinary people out to teach him. The thought made him unpleasantly damp.

There were a number of puzzle pieces and action figure toys lying on the far corner of the room where he usually leaves it. Resisting a maddening urge to go to the corner and pick up and meddle with his old hobbies, Near contented himself by repeatedly playing with a lock of his silver hair, trying to detach his attention from the objects of interest and focus outside the window. For good measure, he even dragged a big armchair from the sofa set, faced it towards the window and sat there in his usual way while twirling his hair.

It would be ridiculous to go back and play with his toys again, not when he accepted this decision whole-heartedly and admitted into rehabilitating himself willingly. He has to content with working with his mind for critical thinking process, and that _alone_.

To do anything else that would bring him back is like admitting that he had lost to his own self.

And that's something he will never allow.

Determined more than ever to see the end of this, Near sat, and waited. From outside the doors, different tones of voices resounded along the hallway.

--

-_Outside the waiting room-_

"So Roger, who is it you wanted me to teach? And what, exactly, do I teach him or her?" Anne inquired, rather off-handedly, glancing Vera's way every now and then. Vera stood by the corner, listening.

Roger stared at the woman and tried to smile good-naturedly, "Lady Anne, I'm afraid I cannot deal with specifics right now… You see, the client would prefer to have his decision regarding this. I think you should ask him." he ended timidly.

_You should ask him_

The way he said it made Anne wonder what kind of client she was going to encounter. If anything, Roger appears uncertain of hiring her in the first place. And what's with that tour? The old man had given them a "short" yet most thorough tour around the orphanage, showing them each of the quarters of the orphans, the wide dining and living rooms, the bathrooms, the servant's quarters, the outdoor gardens and other places given only in tours. He even showed them the guest rooms as though they had an untold intention to take lodge in the mansion.

This was starting to look like those horror movies she had seen of late, where the lady gets trapped in a haunted mansion and gets devoured by the beasts living there…

Well, enough with these thoughts. They can't be true, of course. Anne knew Roger as though she grew up alongside him, and through the years, they have become good acquaintances enough to ensure her that she was in good hands. This client may be mysterious but aren't they all? Wammy's House was offering the best salary pay she had ever encountered in all her hiring life that she couldn't possibly pass this up. They were doing good business here.

"Very well. But we keep talking about the client and I haven't taken a glimpse of…him, yet." The woman cleared suggestively, "Where is he, may I inquire?" her tone was innocent enough. She was eager to know what this client looked like—enough for the orphanage to be agreeable enough to pay her a very decent amount in behalf of his teaching.

"_To hire private tutoring as soon as possible when he could've gone to school and learn… He must be the secret heir of a duke or the king to be kept in private like this…" _she thought, her mind immediately procuring images of handsome and gallant knights in shining armor and dining on silver plates while courting ladies.

"Yes, you haven't. He is in the waiting room, right this way, ladies…" Roger motioned for them to follow him and finally led them to a closed door at the middle of the carpeted hallway. Then he stood beside it and waited.

"You're not coming?" again, Anne had to wonder why the old man seemed so timid and reluctant with this hiring.

"I'm afraid not..." he sighed, "The client will be taking over from here on. I will come back later to see to it that everything is in order."

That seemed to relax both of them.

"Good. Then what are we waiting for? Let's go, Vera. Our client is waiting."

--

The wide waiting room was lined with tall windows facing the morning sun, and the heavy curtains draped only half of it so the sun was pouring in cheerily. Facing one of the windows, an armchair was placed, and sitting on it was the client. No doubt.

At first, with the bright glare of the light facing them as they opened the door, they could only see the client sitting on a high armchair with their back to him. But a longer look showed something else.

From the tips of his silver, curly hair showing through the head of the armchair, Anne instantly concluded it was an old man. The sudden realization appalled her. In that span of time as they walked in and saw the client's back, she had time to be disappointed.

"_And here I was thinking of a boy or a young man, not someone old enough to be my grandfather… I think I'll be having a difficult time dealing with this." _she thought.

She was an unusually flirty young woman, always preferring to be surrounded by young men and flaunting her beauty whenever they were around. The thought of teaching a possibly retarded and disease-ridden wrinkly and senile old man made all her defenses crumble, and as much as she wanted the high salary, she was tempted to decline. She had never felt more insulted in all her life.

"I think I'll be heading for the rest room now…" she blurted as though extremely nauseated and dashed towards the open door outside and swung it shut without another word to Vera, who stood staring after her departing.

Vera looked at the door, then to where the client was sitting.

The silence permeating inside the room seemed endless, she nearly wish she had left just like Anne. The client seemed to have reached the end of his old life.

"Sit down." a command suddenly issued from the sitting client, so abrupt that it threw her off.

_That voice…_

It sounded old yet full of authority and confidence she had no right to deny.

Vera walked over to the long couch at the corner of the room, right next to the high armchair, meanwhile taking furtive glances at the client's back. From her viewpoint, it was hopeless to see anything that would reveal his face, so she did as was told and sat meekly.

After a while, the silence returned, but it was short-lived when the client talked again, almost imposingly this time.

"How should I address you?"

Once again, she was baffled at the turn of events. But she felt no alternative but consent.

"Vera… Lady Vien if you wish. You are…?"she asked tentatively but was immediately cut off.

"You may reserve your questions at the end. Right now, you have to obey me. No questions asked." the curt reply came, and then added, as though an after thought, "My true name doesn't matter." the impossibly full yet mysteriously cold voice spoke, then commanded again, "Sit on the couch facing the wall."

Vera did as she was told. No sooner did she do this when a blindfold was abruptly slipped over her eyes from behind. From that point, when all her reflexes screamed to remove the blindfold that was so unceremoniously and callously placed over her eyes and of which insulted her very dignity, she resisted after much effort, and instead remembered the client should have—no, _must have _a reason to behave like this… Based on what she has heard, there should be something behind this action, although every instinct in her rejected it and labeled it as suspicious.

_God_, but it sure was irritating just allowing him to place blindfolds like that… and to a lady like her! Even keeping up with the fact that she had willingly allowed the blindfold on must make her seem pretty submissive.

_Oh right, that's just cool. Our little auntie Vera came to play. hum. _She sighed or inhaled in an effort to still herself.

This old man was certainly unruly... Vera almost envied her companion Anne for having escaped this puny, senile game.

But, even though she considered the behavior to be very child-like to be appropriate and utterly discourteous for her taste, she chose to be silent and abide willingly. She wasn't about to throw her efforts to the fire just because some—_old man _with the bearings of a mischievous kid was playing tricks on her. Even if that might sound repulsive in itself… After all, she had no idea what to expect from him.

But by following him while he controlled the leash, she was subjected to feel the first strings of suspicion and something she had not bargained for: panic. It was all becoming a one-way trip to uncertainty, but right now, she has no choice but follow. After all, she did all this and nothing had happened to her, right?

Nothing yet, so far.

"In front of you is a low coffee table. Feel for it and you will find a paper bag lying there." the voice narrated.

Feeling stranger by the moment, Vera felt her irk and fear growing bitterly, the voice starting to sound like a thief robbing her of something unknown. She felt for the table in front of her and sure enough, her hands touched the crinkly surface of the paper bag. Instantly, she involuntarily withdrew back her hand as though she had touched something unpleasant and immediately regretted her action. The client didn't seem to notice, however.

"Now, reached into the bag." again, the affirmative voice allowed no room for refusal.

Curse him for being so commanding! Whoever he was, Vera was sure she'll give him a word or two after he had laughed his ass off due to her ridiculous escapades. And to the director of the orphanage, for that matter. At the very least, she had found a reason to reprimand Roger and how the teachings and guidance they were giving were inappropriate and _severely_ inadequate.

But right now, she felt herself submitting. Slowly, almost with repulsion, she inserted her hand gingerly inside the bag, half-expecting to feel the rough, clammy skin of a cockroach, worm, lizard or tarantula… which would've been okay. She had developed immunity against the critters, it didn't frighten her. But to her shock, her fingers slid across a cold, metal surface…

The blood drained out of Vera Rothschild's face when she felt familiarity flush over her whole self as her hands examined and closed in on the metal object: it was a hand-cuff.

"Take out the hand-cuffs." the voice commanded again, this time sounding like the voice of an evil man who knew exactly what he was doing.

From this point on, Vera knew the game had turned. She wasn't playing with a senile old man with the mind of a kid.

This was worst.

Earlier, the panic she felt was a tiny, piece of deadly substance that now grew to devastating lengths, threatening to overcome her. But she held on long enough, stay and listen to his next order. To her grim premonition, she had an idea what it would be.

"Get the hand-cuffs… and lock your hands in it."

Now, it was in this moment of struggle with her own hold as her logic told her it was not yet too late to cry out for help and take out the blindfold, rush outside the door and ran like mad. That she can still save her dignity and return to the way it was. That she can live her normal life without caring for her brother who was stupid enough to do the things he did and dump this old man who was playing tricks and making her look like a fool. For all she knew, he could be a homicidal psycho with intents to do something malicious to her. She had seen enough of it during her travels.

_  
There were always times when Vera had chosen to be submissive and impassive to the things happening around her. Her wealthy and very successful family was enough testimony of her well cultivated personality and impeccable manners. She was always willing to be the underdog, as long as she can have her way in the end._

_Yes, she loved to gain the upper-hand of situations if it would benefit and please her. It didn't matter what she did to acquire it, just so she has it in the end._

Now the moment has come to determine the extent to which she would follow orders. Locking herself in cuffs would mean not being able to do what she wants, and that means forfeiting any upper-hand situations she has left of escaping… then the only choice left would be to follow this man's every order.

A great risk. She was putting her whole self on the line, entrusting herself with the judgment of this man she never knew and had never set her eyes on.

But for her goals, it was worth the try.

There was something about this man… it was hard to put her finger on it, but she felt like she trusted him to some extent. Despite the fact that he acted every bit like a crazed psychopath, the tone in his voice reminded her of someone who was confident in giving orders because it was right. That's what made her go through all this, she realized.

It was the only thing that held her on long enough, so, submitting all her beliefs to this man, she knew she have to do it.

Exhaling deeply, Vera focused her hands, placed the cuffs in an upright position, then put her left hand into the semi-circle arc. With the other trembling hand, she picked the other end of the cuff and latch in the lock.

_click click_

The latch remained unlocked as though it was too loose to fit in. She tried again, to no avail.

Then it that split second, she realized _it was not meant to be locked. _This man intended it all.

When the client saw she had done as she was told till the end, a contented smile graced the corners of his lips. A rare smile, if one counted the times he ever revealed it in front of other people, especially strangers.

"Good. I'm glad to know you can follow orders, Lady Vien." Near said with a drawl that was strangely demure despite its freezing quality.

"Now we can formally start." he grinned.

--

**End notes:** So, the long chapter ends here. I will be revealing additional information regarding these lady visitors next chapter, which will probably be due in a week...or so. ;D

Please review!


	3. Instructor

Disclaimer: Death note is owned by Ohba Tsugumi and Obata Takeshi. I own the OC.

--

Revised- July 20, 2008

--

Summary: With the introduction of the "teacher", Near finds his logic and suspicion weaving its own tale for her… After all, he was dubbed as being similar to L, so he also has his paranoia working alongside his critical thinking for him. Will this get in the way of his learning?

**Half broken memories **

_A fiction created by Hideki Tensei_

**Chapter 3**

**Instructor**

_FLASHBACK_

_-waiting room-_

Sitting on the big, bulky armchair had been uncomfortable, and Near somehow felt a protruding object spiking up on his left side from behind. He was about to dismiss the finding as irrelevant—few things really mattered when his mind focused on something—when, after a few moves and hitches in his seat, the abomination soon became intolerable. Reaching down with his left hand, he closed his fingers on it and brought it back.

It was a handcuff. A steel and genuine one, from the looks of it… Some genius, inspective kid had probably left it in a hurry; the waiting room was always known to be the playing ground at night.

He stared at the closed handcuffs again, noticing the keys were gone, and in the keyhole's place was a thin piece of metal wire for lock-picking. But it was still in good working order, he saw.

_Near had an experience with it once, on a mystery case together with Lester and the other lockpick master they hired. Pretty soon, after much meddling, Near had already mastered the basics and configurations of the hand cuff without much difficulty. _

So now, it came to this. A few seconds ago, he had been reduced to feeling uncertain how the meeting would proceed, as unusual as that may seem. But now that he has this gadget, he figured it will be easy after all.

Whoever his instructor will be, Near wasn't about to accept them just because they have the knowledge. He needed something more concrete than that.

--

_-present-_

_-Wammy's House, waiting room-_

"Good. I'm glad to know you can follow orders, Lady Vera. Now we can formally start." Near grinned.

And as the blindfold was removed over her eyes coming from behind, the woman found herself blinking at the glare of light from the room, at the same time torn between utter confusion and skepticism that she could only stare at him as he walked towards the couch across her.

This man had just acted like a thief robbing her, and now, it looks like it was just a show… He's acting all noble and civilized as though the incident earlier was the introductory phase of their meeting.

_What in the world--?_

It was suddenly very confusing that she just couldn't care what he does next.

In fact, he didn't feel real. Maybe he'll even claim she just won a million dollars for acting like a fool obeying a voice.

_This young man who commanded her suspicious actions and fooled her into thinking he was old… _

Seeing him now, tall as he is and somewhat sickly yet adequately fine in appearance, she found it hard to believe he was real material.

Didn't her elders say personality and thinking always matched external appearances? She had followed that guideline only to have this man mock her for believing it.

Vera continued to watch him, her eyes following his moves like a mouse to a stray cat.

The young man glided over to the couch, his steps dream-like and sluggish. And as if what he had done was not strange enough, he sat on the couch across her with his knees to his chest, his finger starting to play with a lock of his already curly hair in that lazy, surreal kind of manner.

Vera blinked. She found she still couldn't believe he was real.

The client/ Near didn't mind. All the more better, although this wasn't the proper way of dealing with her.

"I'm Near. Like I said, you don't have to know my real name..." he said imposingly yet bluntly at the same time, as though he didn't care about it at all, continuing to twirl a lock of his hair absent-mindedly, "You will be teaching me everything I tell you to. If you don't know them, I'll hire another one who does know."

"Then you will fire me?" amazingly, Vera talked back despite all her feelings. Well, it didn't felt real anyhow so might as well not act like her usual self.

At this, Near gave her an impish grin, "No, I won't fire you. You have proved you trust me enough to put those handcuffs on. That's enough proof of your credibility."

"_Credibility, he calls it. Blind-folding his teacher and making her do suspicious actions was his idea of testing their credibility. It's like he's living in a criminal world."_ Roughly, Vera mused.

"Why did you do it?" instead, she found herself asking. The incident earlier had not been a pleasant experience for her. "I don't believe those handcuffs would be necessary if only to prove my credibility. You could have checked the biodata I have prepared." she was saying with the self-confident air of someone who was sure she was right and dignified.

"Everything you need to know is there." ending the statement in an assuring voice, she made Near sound like the villain without too much effort.

But the young prodigy was undaunted. If ever, he looked like her statement had only proved her mistake.

"You're wrong." He continued twirling his hair lazily as he regarded her with a mockingly assured expression, uncaring to her startled gesture at being graciously denied.

"That doesn't tell half of what I need to know." he said grimly, "First of all, it doesn't tell your true intentions or what you haven't written on that piece of recognition paper. Everything else that is disregarded is what I needed to know."

His reply struck her like an invisible hand.

_So sure…_ He sounded absolutely sure that for a moment, she could only listen to his authoritative voice which demanded attention.

"I want to learn things I don't know." Near shamelessly yet determinedly said, leaving Vera awed for a while, "By that I mean many things and aspects in human life which mere watching of television shows and videos will not provide. It may be interesting, childish or disgusting. It can be anything." his tone ended firmly and left some underlying meaning which bode both pleasant and unpleasant. The young lady wrinkled one of her brows at this, to which Near noticed and explained further.

"I was wondering if you could handle it if I asked you to teach me to do something you would not have done… like something that required handcuffing you, for example, while playing that game called 'hide-and-seek' and shifting to the chasing game of 'tag'?" he said, almost thoughtfully in his manner, looking up the ceiling momentarily. He knew how outlandish he sounded, which suited his intentions just fine. After letting the thought sink in, he darted his steel eyes back at hers, now serious, "That was an example scenario. Personally, I would prefer a teacher who can not only teach efficiently but also handle varying situations with a versatile mind."

"Proving you followed my orders no matter how suspicious and child-like it sounded and restraining your own hands with a handcuff knowing full well you entrust your judgment to me is enough proof that you are qualified."

"We live in dangerous times, lady Vien." he stared at her, serious and intent, "It is better to be cautioned."

--

/Near's P.O.V. (point of view)/

Near stared at her staring at him. He had had his first glimpse at her when he watched as she configured with the cuffs with the blindfold on, and the aesthetics did not held much interest, except the extracurricular details.

Near estimated her age to be around his age, perhaps older with the make-up she was wearing ever so lightly. The color she chose was noticeably demure and mature, only to paint her already rosy complexion. And even though it was supposed to make her look younger, it made her appear as though she were in her 40s, although there were no notable signs of wrinkles or any blemishes on her pale skin.

Near found it possible to be suspicious; it looked like she had forced herself to exude that kind of impression.

Her whole choice of clothes spoke of stature and formality, with just a hint of feminine touches added by the neatly tied navy green colored scarf on her collar, seeming to form a ribbon. _In an effort to appear conservative, maybe. he added the thought_. She wore a two-piece suit, the kind one would see in the lobby of a first class hotel worn by the amiable and friendly staffs. It had faint touches of blue and navy green, and it carried a sense of pride and confidence to which she handled professionally. The striking color of her auburn hair, although held up in a tight bun, did not fail to show her attractiveness accentuated by her ivory skin. Coupled by the calm radiance of her emerald eyes, Near thought she was qualified to appear the best courtier.

Inwardly, he wrinkled his nose at the thought. If she had dressed in a more revealing manner, perhaps he would have considered meriting her with a second opinion and might have felt otherwise.

_He had seen pornographic pictures in the past and became aware of what it had invoked in him, but it only stayed on that peripheral level of thinking, that hovering feeling of wanting for mere looks yet not submitting no matter what. Critical thinking still dominated most of his cognitive process. _

He looked over her mentally again, picturing her like a slut in a tight leather mini-skirt, V-cut top and red high heels. Just to test if she could dress in a way that would fit a shred of his interest.

_He had the ability to do that, as much as he had the ability to put himself in another's shoes._

But from her confined, restricting appearance and the way she carried herself with self-contained dignity, Near knew it would never happen. Leaving the thoughts of possibly liking her behind—which was better--the idea of dismissing her as lovely was as easy as dismissing any fleeting thoughts in his mind right now.

Other than the enigma she presented, Vera Rothschild held no apparent interest or any hint of emotion for Near except her title: his mentor and instructor who had proved she was capable.

_He never had developed that interest for beauty. With years of confinement, lack of social inclinations and playing with toys and puzzles the only form of recreation for him, Near found many things have not sparked any of his interest close enough to be held for a time. _

_Ever since he was young, he found out that any thing for display purposes and as one-dimensional as the joyful pictures he sees from books—all looks and no mystery behind it—were as pointless and worthless to waste any time thinking about. His advance and highly intellectual mind found itself at par with solving puzzles, however. That, and his toys. _

_The only things that held semblance for him were his toys: objects which were lifeless and inanimate but nonetheless were pliant enough to hold equal relevance to him as much as he held utmost importance for results. Other than those mentioned, he had no particular attraction to any form of external stimulus. Other objects that were not at par with his intellectual skills were abruptly ignored or have at least sparked a passing emotion. But that was all. _

_This was how Near moves his life, so far. It may have been bland as was narrated but nevertheless, it was the only life he had known to live with in contentment. _

_That was all about to change now, he knew._

He kept staring at her purposelessly, wondering what she was up to although not knowing why he was doing it. She had already proven her dedication, hasn't she? So why does he have the feeling that there was something more to her than meets the eye?

_Maybe I don't know her yet. _the troubled thought occurred to him.

--

Although his stare really bit and made her feel as though she had done something wrong, Vera kept her wits about her. She wasn't about to let him make a fool of her again.

But first things first. As a major in ethics and manners, she will not ignore formalities, no matter how unseemly the situation may be.

"I am Vera Nieve Rothschild." she spoke her name in a reverent, calm manner as she sat composed on the couch facing him. Noting the slight change of expression from Near, she knew she had invoked the same meaning from thousands she had introduced herself, which was not much a surprise.

The Rothschild's was one of the most renowned families in the world, it would be ridiculous if someone like him—_who looked like a noble of some sort, she thought_—didn't heard a word about them.

Each member of the Rothschild family was destined to be famous, her father had said. And she believed in his every word till now.

Taking the thoughts by heart, she spoke with the same confident air of someone very sure of herself, "Perhaps you have heard of that surname. Yes, I am the daughter of the German financier, Rothschild." she concluded proudly.

"I know that." Near replied before she could say anything.

Again, he had rudely yet bluntly cut her off, his smooth, easygoing manner impossible for her delicate throat to swallow. He was starting to fray her nerves.

"Well then. That makes it easier for me." she retorted, her sarcasm melting into her words like vile acid.

Feeling her insult, Vera stopped, trying to get her composure again. No matter how good it felt, it wasn't right.

She must not let rudeness make her step out of her boundaries. This—Near, whoever he was, was still her client.

She closed her eyes for a moment, regaining herself, then opened them. In front of her, as though nothing happened, the young man sat, twirling his hair in the same lazy like manner, staring at her imposingly.

She stared back at him.

"I am thinking…" he drawled absent-mindedly, "Would you know how to… talk properly?" he inquired.

At this, Vera was confused and a little insulted, "Talk properly? Aren't we talking right now?"

Strange… Surely he can't be joking! Most of all, they are not having this conversation in this state. If this continues, it will look like they're exchanging notes with illegible handwriting.

"I am aware of that Lady Vien…" Near was saying patiently, "The kind of talking I refer to is… diction." he paused to look at her reaction.

If she had any, she hid it well. Nothing showed in her face but more impassiveness.

How surprising of her.

But to Vera, that's when she knew they were finally talking on her terms.

--

/Vera P.O.V/

At least, he was finally making sense as her student. For a while, she thought they would keep playing cat and mouse.

Now that relationship was established, Vera realized it was time to become the teacher. And judging from the type of student he was going to be, she figured it was best to be professional as possible.

At first glance, she had not thought this man looked like the type to be in need of teaching. If ever, he acted intelligently on his "schemes" to test her.

If there was anything he needed to learn, it was good manners and right conduct. The man severely needed it.

But when he heard him say his request to be taught with proper diction, it instantly melted all defenses and opened her into another viewpoint: he needed her.

Just as Roger felt the necessity to assist Near, Vera had felt it more clearly than anyone else.

Maybe it was that inner passion to shed light and dispel the darkness in people's souls, that feeling developed through years of handling preschoolers, college graduates and professionals alike that made her seep through the apathetic expression, the over flowing confidence and certainty, and the clear-cut logical thinking to recognize the hidden truth: he wanted to be taught. From his actions, she figured it would be things he didn't know—_many _things he never knew.

If this man was even aware of how awkward it must make him seem, he didn't show it—probably never even knew it was supposed to be awkward for his age to be learning how to interact with people like a newborn. So she decided to be impassive about it as much as he was.

Despite everything said and done, Near wished to learn. For what purpose, she knows not. Thinking about it, the test he did earlier turns out to be his way of doing things…which would bode a difficult student.

_He must be doing it everytime… Pretty scheming, if I think about it. _she thought.

Instead of being mad, she found herself giving one of her most stunning smile at him, the kind which made most men and women old and young alike feel like smiling back, but to which garnered no particular reaction except an unreadable stare from Near.

Nevertheless, she didn't expect him anyway, "You want to learn diction? Good choice." she encouraged, "We'll be starting from the basics then." she didn't find it necessary to say anything else, which might set him off. But if anything, there's no change.

He didn't say anything. Just staring at her in that unblinking kind of way.

At least now he stopped fumbling with his lock of silver hair. It was a little disturbing to look at for a grown man. Now that she was in the subject, she thought he would look just fine and normal if he didn't have his strange habits.

"Diction is fairly easy subject to start with once you have grasped the basics and feel. It's not only about saying the proper tone of the words but also knowing when to say it and what kind of words to say. For example, your target audience is of the young adults, you would not choose to speak like a physics professor and explain formulations they will find boring. Instead, relate with them on their level. Diction does not only deal with speaking the correct and intelligent words, it also means suiting up to your target audience. Also, depending on the place and time it will make the outcome favorable for the teaching atmosphere. As my student used to say, there's no place like anywhere else where the sun is shining, the wind is breezy and cool. Don't you agree?" she asked, the question rather implying him for a prompt answer. She had talked that long and still he didn't appear to have heard, what with that bland yet disinterested look on his face.

--

/Near P.O.V./

After a while, it seemed his scheme did not work. If ever, she appeared the complete opposite.

_The question he asked as innocently as he could was partly true and partly had to do with his investigative manner of dealing with things. Yes, he was still not convinced that she is genuine, and if it would take him countless tries to prove she had something up her sleeve, he would do it._

_Something told him there was something fishy about this woman that simply dug under his skin like an itch he can't reach… But for now, he'll content accepting meekly._

He evaluated her response to the question as beautifully acted. She was perfectly acting like the caring teacher. What he once thought to be a snobby self-inclined woman turned out to be a saintly angel. Drastically true, under the circumstances… which would mean more suspicion. This sudden shift of emotion from her left him confused but more determined than ever to see more behind the grand picture.

Suddenly, he became aware of the silence permeating around the room. The woman had stopped talking and awaits his reply.

He decided to stall.

After a while, she moved on, as expected. But the moment she spoke, he knew there was something wrong.

"Sir Near, I understand you want to learn." the soft touch in her voice was gone, "But if we keep up this atmosphere of… _suspicion_ or whatever it is between us, you will learn nothing and I, as a teacher, have not fulfilled my role." she spoke, hints of frustration in her voice.

She had successfully read his mind. No, not his expression; he made it unreadable anyway.

Continuing with her argument, she emphasized, "Following your orders does not always mean I have to follow your every whim. A teacher-student relationship is not only about exchanging information but also willingness to absorb it on your part. If you want to proceed with this at all, I must ask you to please cooperate, sir Near."

Slightly shock, he thought it best to silent. This is the first time he had ever been rebuke for something he always did… For Near who was always surrounded by the possibility of suspicion and precaution as he handled cases, to say he was suspecting her was common for him. But apparently, she noticed.

Things have turned too awry at the moment, he figured he has no choice but assent.

He sighed after a while, "I must have acted too ignorant of you..." he didn't apologize but made it seem like it, "There's an outdoor garden outside." without waiting for her reply, he stood up from his seat and walked to the door.

As he was about to leave, the door opened to reveal Roger. He poked his head in warily at first, as though some creature would bite his head off, then emerged fully when he saw Near about to leave.

"I'm sorry to interrupt." he said briefly, glancing at the young lady still seated on the couch then to Near standing before him, "But the young lady's friend have left a moment ago and hasn't returned. I was worried something may have happened?"

Vera started to say something when an insistent ringing vibrated across the room. It was Near's cellular phone.

He flipped it open promptly and spoke, "Gevanni."

For a moment, there were only static noises on the background, as though the transmission was bad and the area was far away. Then Gevanni came through in a harried manner.

"I have located one of the scientists in the Russian research institute and have gathered substantial information. I can't tell it on the phone." his voice was urgent.

"Where are you?"

"Somewhere…" the other voice trailed off, as though unsure. After a brief moment, repeated, "I'm somewhere in a first class hotel in Moscow."

"I'll be there." without hesitation, Near ended the call and closed the phone. Then he said something to Roger in a lowered voice, who then looked at Vera apologetically.

Near left without another word as though any time wasted would be fatal. The old man, being left out to handle all these, looked a little weary.

"Aherm." he cleared his throat before announcing the news, "I truly apologize for this abrupt interruption lady Vera but Near has other appointments that he must attend to without further delay. It is a matter of utmost importance to him."

For a moment as Roger observed her reactions, she initially appeared devoid of expressions. After hearing his news however, surprisingly she smiled at him.

"It's alright Sir Roger. I understand. Would you mind if I take lodge in this mansion while I wait for Near's return?" she articulated smoothly.

After all, the old man was not ignorant of the fact that Near have done some "testing" to her. It was a certainty. Judging from his nature, he would have done something that was against this stately young lady's high ethics and conducts; the abrupt leave of her companion even before they started was enough to say that it did happened.

But Vera's behavior baffled him. Surely anyone who handled Near would be irked in some way but she showed no sign… ever since that boy was young he had that commanding behavior exuding with outright confidence that was hard to deny, and he was careless in using it with anyone he wished. She was no exception. In fact, she _should be_ frustrated in some way, enough to make her leave like her lady companion. The temptation of the high salary pay have not enticed her as her lady friend had—of course, she was already lucrative to begin with—so what was making her agree to stay and teach Near?

_Compassion_, his mind came up.

It was the most probable answer. Vera had felt how he felt towards the young prodigy… The old man could only hope she had enough of that compassion to make her last. He had guesses how the whole teaching system would turn out judging from the facts he had known of Near throughout the years. He may have been a great child prodigy with a phenomenal grasp of situations and cognitive process, so there's no doubt he would easily learn everything she teaches. But with a new case on his tracks and the ambiguity surrounding her like a heavy fog, Near would easily put her on his list to investigate along with the new case and do all means to find out the truth, even if it would mean putting his learning on the line.

He was that determined. Results mean more to him than anything else, and he wasn't about to give up that belief. After all, it was one of the things that tied him to L.

But right now, he has to ensure he fulfill his role while Near was away.

"Certainly." he beamed his most radiant expression at her, "you may stay in the orphanage for as long as you want, lady Vera. In fact, I'm truly sorry for this inconvenience I wish we could have done more for you. This event was unforeseeable, and I, as the director, feel responsible." Roger bowed his head in regret to which the young lady dismissed.

"It's no bother, sir Roger. I have an intuition that my stay here will not be regretful." she added.

To which the director found enigmatic and it showed in his face that Vera laughed--a musical, silvery kind of laugh.

"It's a woman's intuition. We were made to know events beforehand. It's a bit strange but sometimes, I do that. As my father used to say, you can always rely on a woman to tell you you're wrong." she laughed after this, not realizing what she had just implied.

--

--

_Author's notes_: This chapter is a little jumbled (I know) but it's necessary so I can put up all the essential information to advance the plot, which will hopefully begin in the next chapter. I have to end it there somehow... I'll update as soon as I can.

_ANNOUNCEMENT: From this point onwards, I am making the story title official. Funny, I only have to change a few minor things… oh well. _

**Endnotes: -PLEASE READ-**

**The Rothschild (pronounced "rot-child") - this is actually a real surname in reality, belonging to a famous family line of bankers who are German in descent (source: ). Of course, Vera being a member of the real Rothschild clan is FICTITIOUS BY ORIGIN and was purely created by me. I took the idea since it's fitting for the incoming plot. **_**I hope no one by that surname sues me..! gasp.**_

**Near being blood type B and other factoids- Taken from the information provided by the manga, "How to Read 13" on Death Note, Nate is a type B. **_**Actually, I've found a nice bit of information regarding the personality behind blood types**_**. For the B type, they are a "outgoing or flirt", so I experimented with the idea of Near having a "naughty, somewhat perverse mind" to add to the growing diversity of his realm of thinking. **

**From his birthday, I have also deduced from the information that his zodiac sign is "Virgo", which overall, follows the personality he shows in the manga and the anime. Cool. **_**I didn't realize it's actually fun to introduce new concepts into his linear mind because it's something he can't deny. hmhm!**_** ;D Personally, I find it amusing and informative. **_**"How to Read" **_**was so helpful to the formation of this fiction, really! **

--

I think that's all there is. I was a bit amused as I started making this chapter a few days ago, even more when it turned out to be full of musings and thoughts. More so, I've not expected the story to turn this way; even making Near seem like a naughty pervert must have turned him into an instant OOC! It's getting interesting too (I hope!). I've got a clear plot going in my head already, (all those idle moments at school weren't for nothing!) I only have to put it down on the keyboard as I type it out. ;D And don't worry black lightning, there's a plot waiting in one of the incoming chapters--I think it's on the 4th or 5th so hang in there! Yosh! As for the rest, the update will be in a week or earlier as always… hmmmm…. wait, did I mention that this is my first time doing a fiction on Death Note fandom?

So, any reviews except flames will be dearly appreciated. ;D


	4. Link

Disclaimer: Death note is owned by Ohba Tsugumi and Obata Takeshi. I own the OC.

--

July 20, 2008

--

Summary: Near goes to Russia's capital-Moscow, to meet with Gevanni, who apparently had something of utmost importance to tell him immediately. As team leader, it was Near's priority to attend to the progress of a case above all else thus he had to go. But little did he know what awaited him… His own departure had caused him to return again, but at what cost? The clues to the puzzle were beginning to unfold, or was it just his own groundless suspicions, his imagined hope?

**Half broken memories **

_A fiction created by Hideki Tensei_

**Chapter 4**

**Link**

--

_-Capital of the Russian Federation, Moscow-_

_Inside the Moskva hotel_

The halls of the carpeted lobby in Moskva hotel was buzzing with all the late afternoon activity and errands as people and employees alike hurry past each other. The granite tile flooring reflected fidgeting bell boys, luggage carriers and rich, sophisticated guest gliding and sliding across each other like a blur, completely ignorant to the lone man standing nearby.

By the reception desk, Gevanni stood waiting for Near, and the apprehension combined with his giddiness made him edgy. He was aware that he must remain calm, but it was nearly impossible given the circumstances of the information he had just found out.

Damn this… where was Near when he needed him?!

The young man was still understandably the leader of the investigation team, and he felt the outcome still relied much on his great deductions for his choice of action, so they can't start without him.

Lidner and Lester had already mobilized to their own designated tasks but he can't contact them for some reason… Add that to the circumstances, he can't help feeling this series of misfortune meant their death...

He felt that way. The disturbing truth behind the institution was far more than they imagined. And it was his fault Near wasn't informed of this sooner.

Gevanni should've known there was something fishy about that place…

--

_FLASHBACK:_

_April 23, 2013_

_09:04 pm_

_-Vorkuta, Russia-_

_outside the research institute_

Near had specific instructions for him: find out the location of the institute along with snapshot pictures for proofing evidence while maintaining the secrecy of his identity. That was all.

Actually, this was his first time to take a look at the institute: what he had gathered for evidence during the initial stage of the investigation was nothing more concrete than this.

That night, he had slipped under the shadows and spied at the apparently massive yet somewhat abandoned research institution, snapping pictures from each angle and external facades of buildings and other important structures. The institution was located inside a barricaded compound where buildings and structures jutted out like perilous sleeping insects crouching by the ineffable gloom. There were a few unlighted dead-looking light posts standing in every corner of the pathway, some of it already decaying with rust as though from lack of use. The cemented pathways were cracked in some areas and weeds populated the ground. Other than that, there was nothing out of the ordinary. The air that night was dank and freezing, the sky without stars and littered with puffs of clouds drifting by the waning moon, eerily shifting shadows in every dark corner.

No signs of movements except the night breeze lifting dust and other debris along the deserted pathways… nothing suspicious but his own presence standing alone amidst the surroundings that were as dead as the fuses in the light bulbs of the post.

Everything looked abandoned. If there was tumbleweed blowing on the ground right about that time, he would've come to the conclusion that it was a ghost town and had left immediately.

This was what they called the institution that abducted children? It looked like that place had burned down a long time ago and left these remnants of derelict buildings to stand by like stone monuments of the past. Had his source been wrong then?

No… Gevanni, like Near, made absolutely sure he was gathering factual information, either from an excellent, infallible source or based on his own investigation so there's no chance it could be wrong.

So why does it look like this was a mistake?

He kept musing for a while as he lay in the dark, when all of a sudden, without warning, the once decrepit-looking light posts standing by the pathways sprung to glaring luminance all at once that Gevanni had nearly taken another step that would've exposed him naked as the guards and personnel filed in front the gate entrance and all things burst to life. The sounds and gears from inside the buildings became apparent; the march of armed sentinels strutting around the whole area with such alertness that Gevanni knew he should conceal himself—at once. There was no time to think about anything else but keep his secrecy intact, so he slipped to the hole on the wall at the end of the corner that lead him inside a tent—surprisingly—where a lab gown of a scientist was conveniently in place on the table. Seeing no other solution, Gevanni had worn this along with other accessories just when another scientist slipped inside the tent. It was another huge streak of luck he found out later, that the tent belonged to one of the personnel in charge of the research.

And Gevanni had been shocked with what he found out.

He had only taken a glimpse of the entire scenario, but it was enough.

He had already sent the snapshots to the main HQ computer and had disposed of the camera, so there was only a mini-spy camera the size of a pill tucked on the pocket of the gown to take record of the horror happening here. But even that was bound to stir suspicion soon. The guards made sure they combed the area very well that Gevanni felt if he lasted any longer he would've been caught and executed.

He had left the institution after much difficulty later, bearing the news of his investigation like a heavy burden on his back.

--

Back to the present

_-Moskva Hotel-_

He glanced at his watch: 5:45pm

Maybe the flight took too long, or the private jet wasn't available. Either way, Near should be here right about now…

Gevanni was about to head for the entrance to anticipate his arrival from the incoming and ongoing limousine cars passing in front of the hotel's entrance when all of a sudden, a tall man in shades, heavy trench coat and beret touched his shoulder tentatively from behind.

Gevanni jumped back in surprise, turned around with his hand ready on the butt of the gun at his holster when he recognized the familiar curly silver hair… As if for confirmation, Near twirled a lock of his hair lazily.

"Lester had met me by the airport earlier." he said without much preamble, to which Gevanni nodded gravely. There was no time for idle chat. Every moment was vital.

"I wasn't able to contact Lidner." Gevanni announced.

"I already did. She's on her way." the young prodigy replied in a rather impatient tone.

Lester, who had been lingering behind Near all the time, emerged to his side, "Gevanni, when do we start?" he asked.

Stunned at the promptness of his actions, Gevanni managed to collect himself back together and utter, "The room is 312. I'll meet you there in 10 minutes."

The three of them went separate ways, Near and Lester both heading for the elevators while Gevanni took to the stairs. After a while, nobody even noticed they were even there.

--

They immediately went to their task inside the deluxe suite, Lester taking care of dispatching hidden cameras and transmitters throughout the room. Gevanni checked the balcony, furniture and the phone for any bugs attached. Near took off his disguise, tossed them casually on the trash bin and waited. Then he went to the couch located in the living room and sat with his knees to his chest.

Right after the two had finished dismantling whatever was necessary, the doorbell rung faintly across the wide room. Gevanni and Lester looked up from what they were doing, to each other, then immediately took their positions on the opposite sides of the door just like FBI agents following protocol. Lester started to twist the doorknob with one hand and a gun raised on the other. Gevanni positioned himself beside the door, his face set and grim.

Meanwhile, the young genius sat on the sofa with a bored look on his face. Obviously he knew who was on the other side of the door; seeing all the fuss and habitual practices can be annoying sometimes. Would they still do that if someone can keep track of their location every minute of the day, he wondered. Really, these FBI agents...

Lester, armed and ready, grabbed for the doorknob and yanked it open, only to reveal none other than Lidner. Both men heaved a sigh. In truth, Lester shared Gevanni's apprehension regarding this, and anything was apt to make him suspect death was coming to them anytime.

The woman glanced at their relieved faces, smiling to herself as though she knew how they felt. Without another word she went to Near waiting by the sofa, nonetheless calm and unfazed as though nothing out of the ordinary had derailed him.

That was about to change when this meeting ends though, Gevanni thought.

When everyone was settled down, Near began.

"First, Lester. Please discuss the background of the institute." his voice was serious as he regarded him gravely.

Lester laid the briefcase he had been carrying since morning on the table, flipped it open then browsed inside. After a second, his hand came up with a gray folder.

"This is what I've found out." he browsed through the folder's contents and narrated, "The Russian research institute or more commonly known as E.R.A.-- Earth's Research Arcana, was originally meant to exist as an independent group researching plant hybrids and genetic advances in medicine for the benefit of the international economy. After the death of its founder however, the son stepped into the picture to take over the whole company, and with the great amount of money from his inheritance, he modified the functions of ERA, forming instead a powerful group that abducts selected prodigious children all over the world then brainwashes their memories to be used for his own purposes. It's been operating for 2 years now, and so far no one had boldly proclaimed its existence in public… which leads to the question of who is backing up their crimes." he ended with disgust, then took out another folder from the briefcase. This time I it was a red folder. "I've found out the organizations backing up ERA and helps in keeping their workings discreet." He handed it to Near, who took it and scanned the list of pictures inside; they were all prominent and influential people in the industry, some he recognized to hold utmost esteem in the realm of medical research.

Upon seeing this, Near frowned. So the extent of this case was far more than he imagined… To think powerful people were backing up the institute makes sense that nobody had succeeded in unveiling its crime to the general public; it was always fancily covered up. Also, considering the past nature of the institution and its contribution to the medical field, it would be easy to say that the complaining common citizens were just vying for attention.

No wonder it lasted for two years, Near thought sardonically.

"Gevanni, tell me about the inside job."

At this, the FBI agent somewhat stiffened, as though tensed on what he's about to reveal. His forehead began to perspire. But regardless it was his job.

He began.

"After 26 hours of inside job and investigation, this is what I've found out." be breathed in.

"Other than specializing with abducting children, E.R.A. was also accounted to have killed many since its abduction years--the children and personnel most especially, usually by accident or used as a guinea pig in the experiments." he narrated, to which earned a stare from Near and the other two. Now this wasn't something they heard. Even he, Gevanni, would have snapped his head to that sort of news that came from something so ambiguous in the first place.

He continued, never breaking his voice, "Based on what I have found out, the technology they use for brainwashing is far too advance for young minds to handle and thus requires a counter-effecting pill to combat the adverse effects of the radiation. Those who did not take the pills or those with severely lowered immune system due to present disease died in the process. What's worst, in order to keep their anonymity, they have resolved to incinerate the dead bodies, leaving no trace left. The children who had lived loses their memories and instead reconstructed with a new one specifically crafted according to plan, at the same time forging 'false' memories in its place wherein ERA became an important part of their lives and other self-inclined details." Gevanni paused, disgusted with this mere talk.

Throughout it all, Near sat in silence, thinking hard.

"That's all I have to report." Gevanni eased a little bit more on the couch after the last word. At least the worst part was over. He'll take care of Near's questioning later.

Lidner, after hearing the disturbing news, decided to present her own finding to the jumble.

"Near, about the phone call… this is what I've found out." she paused, as though unsure if it was necessary, then continued, "The phone, as we know, was originally invented and designed by the late Quillsh Wammy to be untraceable: both incoming and ongoing calls don't have a single record, because it was specifically programmed to delete all records within a split second after it was made. But after I have met with several experts and colleagues of mine, I found out that the coding can be altered such that in a way, it can trace the location of the caller." she glanced at them for a while before continuing, "But that is all." She placed her sight at Near's as she revealed her next info, "The findings tell the location to be in London, maybe even as near as Hampshire, England. The latter is more likely, given the directions of the code."

The reaction was how she had predicted it: shock and bewilderment. Only Near seemed to appear impassive among them.

It was Lester who had voiced out what was on their minds, "But Hampshire is just a little ways before Winchester. If the call was meant to complain about the case, it wouldn't have to be made near such a coincidental place as the orphanage!"

"Nor would he or she be stupid enough to let their cover slip if they did intend to be anonymous. A place as promiscuous as that can easily be investigated." Gevanni added.

"In short, it doesn't make sense for the caller to have called at that place, right?" she summarized.

The men nodded solemnly.

Near remained impassive for a while as though thinking… What they said was true. But then…

Why would the caller do all that, and in the end let himself be exposed so easily by calling near the orphanage? He didn't plan to be executed in such a short time. No, he wasn't stupid enough to do that in the first place. He knew who he was dealing with. Calling SPK would take a lot of guts and wit if he intended to fool them. They were dealing with someone who had enough intellect or influence to hijack their untraceable phone, and he certainly had everything planned.

It was possible to consider that he had been reckless in the process and phoned them in Hampshire, but the place was too coincidental to be disregarded. Hampshire was the neighboring town of Winchester, the location of the orphanage. There's a 1 percent chance he did it recklessly, and 7 percent chance he did it on purpose…in which brings in an entirely different topic.

Near had a feeling what they were dealing with was merely a distraction when compared to the underlying motive… if his suspicions proved true, he may be in some unforeseen danger.

But for now, he'll content himself with finding more about the case...

For some reason, Near could not tell these thoughts to the SPK.

And as they watched him thinking, their faces set and intent on his every word, he was suddenly determined to figure this out… _alone_. He can't depend on them for the rest of his life.

--

The waiting had taken its toll. Near sensed it as much as Lester did, which probably worked just fine.

"Near, know that this is not a case that would naturally interest you." Lester reminded him, "It's a global criminal system abusing gifted children for their own self-gain and interest. If our intention is to expose this group, we must need hard evidence and proof. With the powerful influence backing up their works, a bunch of snapshot pictures won't prove anything."

"I am aware of that…" Near began anew with coiling locks of his hair as he stared at the distance.

"So what about this other case?" Gevanni butted in, "Some anonymous guy had called with information of ERA, but that call also means a threat to our secrecy. If we take on the ERA case, can we just let this caller slip by and eventually publicize us?" he sounded exasperated. He had not gone through lengths concealing his identity just to let a phone call give it away.

"Gevanni… I never said we would abandon the anonymous caller..." Near was saying tiredly, then looked at him, "In case you haven't noticed, those two are inevitably connected." He said gravely.

They stared at him.

"First, 'he' is the one who informed us of ERA's existence in the first place. We wouldn't have known about it if he never called. Two, he intended to be anonymous. By not leaving a name or an address, he wished to let us know this behavior as that of distress. Three, he wants to tell us he knows of our existence as well by calling on the untraceable phone. So far, that's what holds true in this situation."

"And what I've concluded is this: the anonymous caller wants us to investigate ERA for his own purposes, maybe to aid him in some unseen objective. If he had any intention to publicize our identity, he would've done it a long time ago. Rather, he used it as a threat to goad us into doing what he wanted."

"So what do we do now?"

"…We do what he wants and see for ourselves." Near grinned, seeming to enjoy himself.

--

_-Moscow International Airport-_

_The meeting between the SPK was over in 45 minutes. In that span of time, Near had formulated his conclusion based on the findings and decided to continue the investigation, assigning tasks to each member on their own with the goal to find enough proof to support the allegations and other special instructions. _

_However, there was one thing he had not mentioned at the meeting: he was doing his own investigation alone. _

Rain falls heavily outside the glass windows of the waiting area, misting its surface with moisture and dew which dulled the view of the descending airplane outside. Near continued watching it anyhow, the long trench coat and beret he wore protecting him from being recognized by any of the passengers and tourists looking at him.

There were quiet few foreigners today, about eight to ten people sitting on the navy blue benches, appearing disinterested and wan as they waited for the intercom to announce the next flight .

The flight to England would be due a minute later. Meanwhile, if he was going to ask anything, he knew he'd better do it now or there were consequences.

Right on cue, the intercom announcing the next flight blared across the wide hall in its monochromatic voice. Lester stood up and glanced at Near.

"We'd better go Near." He reminded him. Lester _always _reminded him of everything. Sometimes, when he forgot, the man simply did it for him.

Convenient, but at this rate, as much as he disliked the fact of leaving him behind, he would have to. Near didn't realize how much he depended on him until now. The fact decided for him.

"Lester, I want you to head back to the SPK headquarters..." Near solemnly ordered without looking at him.

For a while, the FBI agent just stood and stared at him. His definite command left him in awe sometimes."I understand." he finally said. After a long while, he glanced at him, "Will you be all right going back to England on your own?" the tone of his voice sounded concerned.

But instead of feeling glad, Near only felt more annoyed. "Please… stop treating me like a child. I'm not a kid anymore. I can take care of myself." he mumbled.

To which Lester smiled a little, "Well then. It looks like you'll be okay. I'll be going then." He was about to leave him when Near spoke.

"One last thing before you leave, Lester… May I ask a question?" he inquired blandly.

The older man looked back at him, vaguely curious. Could it be he changed his mind? Not likely. He had known Near for years and he hardly made decisions he was not sure of.

Near sat on the benches in his usual way, watching Lester from afar, "…Who did you say was the founder of the institute?"

For a while, Lester stared at him dumbly. Then he shrugged. "I wasn't able to found out much except his background. The name was never mentioned even, as though it never existed. The only thing I could find out was that it was a German."

At this, Near somehow felt a piece of the puzzle clicked in place.

Now he just has to continue this investigation elsewhere…

"It seems I was not mistaken then." He mumbled, more to himself. Then standing himself, he began to head outside where it was raining lightly.

Lester watched all this as though in a trance. His orders were suspicious though. For the time that Lester had known him, he did not go to places on his own and unaccompanied. Now it looks like he's taking the first step to his independence or some thing… Not that he minded. In fact, he was glad. Near wouldn't be so reliant on them for a change. The thought, although comforting, made him sad...

Lester watched him as headed outside when he realized he had forgotten to take the umbrella.

"Near, you forgot the umbrella!" he called out but the lad was already heading for the plane, soaked by the rain.

If he had heard him, he didn't show it.

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

End notes: Next chapter, the real plot—or should I say, conflict will be revealed… hm. I'm not being too much of a spoiler, am I?

Comments on the chapter: I dislike the fact that I did this in a neglectful kind of way... it feels inadequate!! arrgh! Gomenasai!! I apologize! This chapter started out very _woozy_ I swear it was going places, so I kept on editing it. I hope it didn't turn out bad? (I hope it was okay!!) -saying a silent prayer to the death gods-

I'll try to be optimistic about it. (_Try try try_, my teacher never _gets_ sick saying it.) Whew, but I think I'll manage.

Because of this, I'll update in a day or tomorrow. ;D


	5. Illusion

Disclaimer: Death note is owned by Ohba Tsugumi and Obata Takeshi. I own the OC.

--

Revised: July 30, 2008

--

**Half broken memories **

_A fiction created by Hideki Tensei_

**Chapter 5**

**Illusion**

Moments after Near had left, Vera was left alone in the waiting room, thinking…

Whoever made the call must be important enough for her to be disregarded. It irked her for some reason, but she knew she should still stick to professionalism, for all that's worth.

"_I'll tell you what's worth." _ A tiny voice on the back of her mind piped in,_ "It's this: to stay here, find out about him and teach. Then act like you mean it." _it came unbidden to her mind, its tone reminding her of her elder brother. He was just the type to scheme that way, which reminded her of Near.

She sighed. That wasn't possible. This "Near" didn't even come close to her brother.

"_He's much more of a thick-headed cad, it seems…_" she grinned at thought, when abruptly, her cellphone rung.

"Hm, it's Anne…" flipping it open she held it to her ear.

"Vien, it's me…" the voice from the other end sounded like someone who decided to leave her house because of a storm.

"Anne, you left a moment ago…" Vera asked, though she had a distant guess why and knew it before her friend said it.

"Yes, and I will also leave now. Sorry for this abrupt leave, Vera." A hesitant pause. "Do I seem like I'm betraying you for all this? For letting you tag along and yet being the first to leave and all…" reluctantly, the Anne's voice grew lower due to embarrassment.

On the contrary, Vera laughed it off, knowing full well the malignant tendencies of her dear colleague but decided to act innocent, "Wait, you're leaving? Now? I can understand that but I thought I was the one who was strict on aesthetics all these time…"

"I know, but you have a different experience and you're more able than I am," she was saying matter-of-factly, "So I think you'd be able to do it." There was a pause, "Having the glamour in teaching an old man, I mean."

"W-What?" in her flabbergasted state, it was all she could splutter.

"Haha, I know!" Anne added, taking the idea of her response entirely, "I'm leaving everything to you now Vien. Take care of Roger for me, he can be a handful sometimes. And I've already informed him of my decision, I'm currently here in—"

"—Wait, Anne, you don't mean that you're already…?"

An exclamation on the other end followed by the sound of a car screeching to a halt, "There's the taxi, I have to go. I'll call you as soon as I'm able. Good luck! You know I'll keep in touch. Take care Vera."

The phone hung up after she was done with her monologue. Vera stared at the phone as though asking for an explanation for these spontaneous events. Then, finding none, she decided to dismiss it.

_But what's with the old man…?_ she mused, _He didn't look much like it… maybe except for his hair. _

"Sir Roger!" the moment she saw him enter the waiting room, she stood up to meet him. But somehow he had a better explanation to provide and went ahead of her way.

"Lady Vera, it seems your friend decided to do a quick departure…"

"Yes, so I was informed… just recently." She added with a smile.

Bothered still, Roger lowered his voice, "Yes it seems… from the way she came here and left right away, I get the impression that she was only here to drop you off?"

Vera could only giggle. It did appear that way, to her embarrassment.

But before she could apologize for it, he laughed, "Not to worry. I trust I've made the right choice in contacting you somehow." He gazed at her gravely, "You will teach Near, won't you?"

The gravity of his stare nearly made her step back in hesitation, making her wonder for a moment. Was this late education that of immense importance to him? From the way things were arranged, it was.

"Yes." for a while, there was a moment she was urged to say otherwise and start the series of complaints regarding the introductory treatment she received earlier. But her ideals begged to differ.

"Yes, of course. I will do my best of my abilities to teach him."

--

The wide stretch of limousine swerved elegantly along the gravel pathways of the orphanage, the mechanical drone of its engine establishing familiarity with the orphans immediately and they ran up to it expectantly, keeping a safe distance if only just to see who would emerge from the magnificent black car.

Near didn't even glance outside the window as the young children beamed at him through the ebony windows, waiting for him—the passenger-- to come out. He didn't really care. The moment he would step out and they saw him—L's successor—they would scramble disinterestedly anyway, going back to their routine leisure activities as though no one important had arrived. It was actually better that way; Near had always hated to be treated like a red carpet celebrity where all eyes were set on him.

But there was one thing that would hold their attention for a second this time, he knew.

Near grabbed the handle, pulled and stepped outside the friendly sunshine, spontaneously giving rise to the whispers of the orphans. At least now the scene held a bit of interest.

The rain back at the Moskva Airport had thoroughly soaked Near's clothes, and up to now he was still wet enough to make his pajamas cling to his skin and his curly hair straight and without its usual fluffiness. There were no available change of clothes inside the plane, nothing that he would consent to wearing that is, and so decided to settle for the wetness instead throughout the flight.

In fact he was starting to get chilly but he could take care of that later. Right now, he had important matters to attend to.

Immediately.

As usual, Roger anticipated his arrival and materialized in front of the steps, wearing a welcoming smile as though it was customary to have that on.

"Near welcome back!" he noted his wet clothes for a second then motioned him to the door, "…Come inside and change into new clothes. You're dripping wet like a chick!" he said.

No inquiries about whatever happened except his task to take care of his health. Roger indeed adhered to the rules, which was very appropriate of him, Near thought satisfactorily. Quillsh had imposed enough standards to the orphanage before he passed away for everything to be fitting to the prodigies' preferences and well-being. That included specific instructions for L and his successor.

Which by now would probably mean he had done what was necessary.

"…Where is lady Vien?" he asked impassively.

Roger stared at him for a while, then smiled congenially, "She is in her usual spot by the gardens Near. As for Anne, she has decided to leave. For the time you were gone, Lady Vera have been very well and has even decided to stay in the orphanage for a while, to await your return."

For a while, Near said nothing, his eyes far away and unseeing. Some parts of him were still dripping wet, but he didn't take notice. Roger was about to conclude that he had blanked out again in one of his speculative phases when Near began moving towards the direction of the gardens, located on the side of the building.

Startled yet unfazed, Roger look after Near, his slow yet sure gait as he strove towards the gardens with a keen determination... Seeing this, he had a feeling he will have to omit a few details about his report…

--

The long cascading branches of the willow trees marking the entrance to the vast gardens of the orphanage added the feeling of being in a dream…

Near stepped over the narrow entrance as the willow branches closed in behind him and took a glance around…

It was majestic all in all. But he felt nothing but that burning determination to pursue the case.

Sunlight poured in from a hole in the ceiling formed by the tree's branches, dancing dust motes playing in its slant of beam and illuminating the dim area. A single willow tree stood alone in the center, looking mysterious and majestic amidst the display of wild, showy flowers surrounding it.

The place looks more like a forest than a garden, Near thought dismissively and again, he had to wonder how these profuse, lush nature was possible. Maybe it was the location of the orphanage. But ever since he was young and came to know of the area, he never really cared much.

Glancing beyond the lone willow tree, Near could make out the hidden curving path sticking out on the end of this dome, the path, which, if his memory served right, was the one that lead to the outskirts of Winchester. It would've been no more than accessory detail to him, unless of course, this hollow dome proved futile to his purposes and his interest lay on getting outside. But for now, he had to search this area.

This constricted, uninhabited feel exuding around him… it's like no one was meant to step into these grounds and desecrate its ephemeral quality of being untainted.

The "garden-forest" originally has a small area, but with its structure and level of elevation in the center, it looked expanded so that when one should happen to step in for the first time, they'd think it was a vast, hollow dome.

Despite its size though, it exuded the mysterious, serene feel of being in a shrouded rainforest. With the dense foliage covering and supporting the entire place and the flowers giving life and color to the surroundings, it was easy to say only one who loved peace and tranquility would endure—no, visit this place for a certain length of time without getting sick of it.

To think Vera had chosen this place to hang out amused him in some way.

So, she was the type to love nature and peace. An executive, know-all and diplomatic woman going here every day seemed unlikely when he thought of it that way, Near mused.

Deciding it best to search for her despite the danger of the unknown it presented—_he never did appreciate the garden forest that much, but with the surreal feel surrounding this place, he felt inclined to feel otherwise as though his paranoia can disrupt the place's sanctity_—Near moved around, glancing at corners every now and then, searching for a semblance of a woman…

He ventured around slowly, his steps defying the urgency in his mind. During the flight back to England, he had conjured enough suspicions to throw the allegation on Vera. It was not only because she was of German descent or the fact that her background was suspicious to begin with. The daughter of the most famous financier in the world would not content herself doing private tutoring if she could avail something better.

She simply posed as a suspicious obstacle to him. And besides, she was the only one who had a 3 percent chance becoming the prime suspect. Near knew one way or another, she was the one. He just believed it. As much as he believed Kira was Light and capable of doing nothing but pure evil, his certainty bet on her being the one.

Or so he thought.

Much did Near followed his thoughts that the next sight that greeted him felt like an unexpected blow to his chest, making him draw a sharp intake of breath he did not see coming. It made him expel all current thoughts of suspicion and instead, with a curiosity that wasn't like him, he watched the figure sitting yonder underneath the willow tree, his feelings bordering to that of awe and simple kind of wonder Near thought he wasn't capable of feeling. No, he never imagined it could happen—until now.

There, underneath one of the willow trees, Vera sat on a boulder, her wavy auburn hair cascading down her shoulders in a bright display of stark color that had momentarily stunned him as a sudden glare of light would. Her whole dress patterned in green roses blended with the profound nature around, making her look as one with its serenity and beauty. She exuded soft touches and warmth. Compared to his recent analysis of her, it was a drastic change. She had undergone a complete transformation, appearing more—feminine.

Near found himself forcefully looking away as she had noticed his arrival and glanced his way.

If she had recognized his sodden clothes, she didn't show.

"Near!" she called, at the same time placing aside the paperwork she had been looking at for the last minute and approached him. The fact she acted blind to his rain-soaked attire or his abrupt arrival startled him for a moment, more so when she had stood close enough to him for her fragrant, refreshing scent to carry on his senses like a heady yet addicting perfume. Near forcefully rejected the feminine scent as though it was the smell of decaying flesh.

"I was just starting to assemble our teaching sessions and I have found the right place!" she beamed at him excitedly, acting as though this private tutoring was a fun activity. He refused to make eye contact with her for a moment, knowing how he would feel. He found out she didn't mind. She was as narrative as was appropriate. It irked him in an instant.

"We'll start by learning diction and proper interaction and its accompanying behavior. But first, we need to be able to grasp the basics of talking properly first." She narrated, "As the lesson advances however, we may need more than just the two of us. I want you to be able to get a hands-on experience…" she trailed off suggestively.

He didn't appear like he cared at all what she thinks so she moved on.

"Shall we start?" she smiled radiantly at him. He nodded impassively.

And as the lesson began, he realized he would have difficulties laying out the facts before him if his intention was to expose her.

Near had enough substantial information to support his claim, all he has to do now is put it into practice. And to do that, he has to do something that will confirm his suspicions. But right now, that didn't seem possible.

In a way, as he spent his time half-listening half-observing her as she lectured, he felt his concentration growing lax before her presence. There were instances when, for a brief moment in time, he started losing grasp of his logic, pursuing instead an unknown path which inevitably provoked him into following it. But he remembered the case and he stood his ground.

He couldn't afford to lose.

Even this mere act of forgetting the case was unforgivable; this was a case that could jeopardize them if he idled even for a bit. Someone out there knew who they were… even with the end of the Kira case, he felt it necessary to do an investigation promptly.

…which leads to the woman chatting away amiably before him.

Near looked at her again, unblinking, and after a while, he just found himself inexplicably unnerved for reasons he couldn't understand.

She was pretty—_very pretty_.

She was also teeming with suspicion writhing all over her. Her gesture, her impeccable manners, the diplomatic way she handles things and her stately background… He had many things he needed to know about her. And he needed to know _all _of it as soon as possible. But with this unforeseen move, he couldn't do any, and it galled him.

Near found out he had severely underestimated her in the first place.

The initial meeting had stuck its first impression on him along with further perceptions about her. He did not expect her to look so…_different_ for a change…

Why couldn't she be more professional and dress appropriately, the random thought occurred to him, suddenly annoyed as though her dressing up femininely was obstructing his thought process in some way.

Apparently, Vera had noticed and inclined her head in a puzzled way, appearing more adorable as her expression turned concerned, "Is something wrong, Near?"

Not knowing how else to cover his predicament, he looked away, "Nothing… Please continue." He mumbled.

--

--

--

--

--

End notes: yaarh, I have to end it there. I've caught a mild fever plus a hot scratchy furball lodged in my throat lately, and although I feel like writing creatively for years (surprise surprise, the jolt of imagination comes at the most inopportune moments), the dizzy spell and the warm feeling surrounding my eyes make it seem limited to a point. My head feels unbelievably heavy it forces me to rest. ;C Just one more of my reasons to delay update, I guess. Anyways!

Thank you for reading!

I hope you enjoyed it so far!

I'll set my updating within a week so stay tuned!

;D

-kit


	6. Pretense

Disclaimer: Death note is owned by Ohba Tsugumi and Obata Takeshi. I own the OC.

--

August 3, 2008

--

**Chapter 6**

**Pretense**

**Half broken memories **

_A fiction created by Hideki Tensei_

--

When it was time for the teaching sessions, in truth, Near doesn't really listen to her that much.

Most of his attention was allotted to scrutinizing her face when her eyesight occasionally drifted away from him, inclining his head and looking at her face as though its surface was smudged with dirt she had been ignoring.

And when Vera would notice in the middle of teaching—_which she always did but acted as though she never minded until it grew persistent enough_—she would ask, "Near, is something wrong?" with a questioning face.

And he would promptly reply with another question that was just as impassive, "What do you like to do in your past time?" he would ask the personal question and immediately draw away her focus from his stare and earn him a good time to observe her as she thought about the answer.

"Well… When I've got nothing to do…" she would hold up a finger to her chin and ponder after a long while. That would make Near watch her closely, and then out of the blue, she would suddenly look back to him, making his heart skip a beat, along with the sweet smile donned in her face--that delicate smile incapable of deception or garner suspicion from an ordinary man. And then she would answer in a voice breathy and sweet, "When I've got nothing to do, I assemble the materials and study guides to teach you. I really look forward to teaching you everyday, Near."

And the answer would startle him a little because of its sheer sincerity and its implications: she had cleverly yet politely excused herself from getting into an embarrassing state by truthfully answering it and instead chose to end the question with more questions. And she was keeping it all to herself, Near knew.

Vera would teach him as is due. She was professional, sensible and mild. In truth, even though his attention was divided and detached, he still understood everything she taught him because her lessons were generally made simple and easy. But that didn't really matter to Near.

He was hell bent on getting logical answers if he was going to solve this case.

"_That wasn't what I asked." _He would think grimly, meanwhile keeping an impassive front as she lectured. All the same, he kept his clamoring feelings of suspicion inside.

Exposing her at this rate wouldn't be a very good decision. The gathered information were premature and inadequate, the conclusion wouldn't be enough to support his claims. So far, only his instincts hold great weight and told him she was a suspect.

He knew that.

But if he could bribe someone into testifying that Vera had something bad up her sleeve instead of waiting for the slow, snail-like pace results of the investigation team, Near would gladly do it. There was something about her that simply dug under his skin, that type to make him wince even though there was nothing physical to be seen on its surface.

She was like a plain box lying on a flat plane in the middle of the road blocking his way, just a plain box with no opening of some sort and he kept hearing things inside it but there was no way logical enough for his taste to tear it down and expose the thing.

And he couldn't move her aside because she's rooted in the way, nor could he refuse what she was implying:

She was a mystery he had to solve.

If he couldn't do it, he was just another loser--

A loser who gave up without even trying.

That's why Near felt pestered and annoyed. Not only by the fact of what she presented but also of the new feelings that accompanied her introduction. For the first time, Near realized there were rare instances where he can't fully control his own emotions.

Yes, he was still calm and thinks logically even in the most pressuring situations. But when she shows up and sits close to him like this, her feminine scent overpowering and heady, and her soft, vulnerable appearance disarming him in some way and her voice breathy, it was with difficulty sometimes to look into her emerald eyes and act sincere when inside he felt like running far away from her reach.

But for now, he'll have to endure.

--

"Now, I want you to talk to me and pretend I'm a stranger." Vera was saying.

_Near had recently perfected the make-shift exam on speech basics, intermediate and expert, as well as the dictions on different college levels, and she had no other choice but to proceed to the next level despite being untimely. It was still a day since she started giving the exams and she had not expected him to finish everything, and with flying colors. _

_She should've known he was gifted. Not that the realization surprised her. In fact she was happy._

"You're a stranger." He replied impassively.

She nodded encouragingly. "Yes, so what are you going to say if I approached you and suddenly asked for directions to the Wammy's House?"

For a while, Near looked like he was thinking about it, then replied seriously, "What business do you have with the orphanage?" his voice sounding very suspicious.

She stared at him wide eyed as though he had just directed the question to her, then realized it was just an act. She sighed, "Yes, that may be. But you have to have a friendly and approachable disposition Near. You're not a security guard inside a military encampment. Remember what I said about being amiable?" she said, looking at him directly so that he could see himself reflected on those emerald orbs.

It was a rather ironic question. "If I want to have friends and acquaintances, I should learn how to appear… vulnerable."

She refrained from showing her surprised expression. His choice of words was rather _paradoxical_. "Well, yes, although 'vulnerable' sounds rather harsh. If I may rephrase it, being friendly and hospitable and behaving appropriate would do. Nobody likes smug and intimidating people right? Ordinary people live ordinary lives, anything outside of that and only then will you conform to their standards. Are we clear on that?"

He nodded meekly.

Taking that as a sign of his cooperation, she ventured on, "So, let's continue. Again, I'll give you another scenario. This time, I'm an old lady carrying heavy grocery bags in my arms—"she took the load of paperwork lying on the table and hug it into her arms. She began walking clumsily, "Then you happen to cross my path and I lost my footing and drop the bags. I have to bend to pick it up. You're standing there right beside me. What will you do?"

Near, taking his time, approached her. "Let me help you." He droned, then he began helping her pick up the strewn papers all over the ground, diligently collecting it then arranging it into a pile. As Vera watched, she felt proud he was finally taking to heart his lessons.

"Thank you, kind young man. My back is not very good, I'm just very glad you happen to came by and help me." she acted.

Near stood expressionless beside her. "You're welcome." He said monotonously.

She waited for him to say something else—surely, he can't just say it like a mechanical robot and leave the old woman that is her—when he held out a hand.

"May I see your identification card, please?"

She had the incredulity to ask, "What for?" her voice no longer pretending.

At this, Near sighed, as though she was the one who missed his point. "I need to know the old lady's name, lest I be responsible for whatever injury I may cause her. She might have broken a rib or a shoulder from the effort to pick up the bags, and as I was there in the scene, I am liable to be suspect if I had hesitated to help her for a moment, or if I had ignored her implications to pain and injury."

It took some time to digest it all. In a way, he was logical but he was paying too much attention on the wrong views that he can't focus on being kind and friendly for a moment.

"You are correct. But unless you're a policeman, you can't just ask for anyone's ID without having an authority to do so. Instead, you could've asked for her name nicely."

She sighed. Near was brilliant—in logic and reasoning, but he severely lack socialization skills.

Maybe she could give a real life situation this time and see what he thinks.

"Let's take a look at another scenario: in the bank. You went to withdraw money to lend to your friend. Suddenly, a man takes out a gun and 5 armed men from the sides emerged and announced a bank robbery. They ordered everyone to drop down and be still. Those who refused to cooperate including the guards were shot dead. Anyone who made the slightest move they find suspicious was done the same way too. They took a woman hostage. You're armed with nothing but your self and your bank account. What will you do?" she asked, watching him closely.

This scenario had happened before in one of the Rothschild's bank branches, and she wants his option regarding this.

Near said nothing for a while, then he began twirling a lock of his hair, "What was the hostage doing?"

She found it strange that he should be asking that, but answered him, "Considering that she was a beautiful young lady, she was scared and she kept yelling to the robbers, especially to the one holding her, to let her go, that she had a family and children waiting for her at home and kept pleading to be released."

At this, Near grinned, "I won't do anything at the moment."

She stared at him as he continued, "I would be risking my life if I fight back, seeing as there's no action that would prove productive on this hostage scenario. On the other hand, nothing will happen to me if I cooperate with them." he concluded, meanwhile starting to twirl a lock of his hair.

"How will you be fulfilling your moral and ethical conducts then?" she questioned, "You let murder and injustice get away. You would be no different than them."

"I haven't said I'll let them get away with it." Near replied monotonously, "After they leave, I'll contact the FBI to keep track of the robbers and they'll easily secure all routes to escape. The FBI has enough branches and undercover agents scattered throughout the city to do that. Then, I'll stay and keep a close watch at the hostage, which I know they'll leave behind as an act of charity to humanity." He grinned at this last.

"The hostage?" Vera asked.

He nodded, "She yelled at the robbers to let her go. Her resistance meant she did not cooperate. Therefore, she should be shot dead like the rest of the guards. They could easily find another one who was less to scream and shout at their ears for a hostage. But instead, they didn't. In fact, they will let her go in the end instead of finishing her off. They can't kill one of their own. They'll make it look like the woman was lucky she wasn't killed, that the robbers took pity on her but the truth is, she was an accomplice all this time."

Vera couldn't find any answers to that. Near had just made an accurate description of what occurred in the same bank robbery. Then with a care that wasn't like her, she realized she must take caution around him.

--

_April 28, 2013_

_-Winchester public plaza-_

_10:00 am_

The day was bright and merry as usual, inhabitants and citizens alike rushing past each other as they carried on their individual errands. The Winchester public plaza was the center of activity during weekends, always appearing like the annual circus band had just arrive at the humble town. Cotton candy stalls, ice cream booths and beverages of different kinds dotted the length of the streets while colorful balloons sold by the town clown added a friendly atmosphere to the plaza. Children of all ages flocked to the stalls and booths, their shouts filled with glee. The elderly couples sat by the benches watching their grandchildren or just enjoying the view.

The moment Near stepped out of the limousine and into the noisy atmosphere, he was instantly besieged with alarm. Everywhere around him, anonymous people strolled, carefree of the possible danger brewing around every corner.

He saw children, who, like the orphans at Wammy's House, played purposelessly. But instead of going away when they saw him standing from afar, they smiled and waved him a greeting before leaving.

Lovers walked hand in hand, the woman usually meek in the arms of the man, without care or concern of letting someone else touch her in that manner.

He saw the elderly folk sitting by the benches lining the corners of the street, watching random views of human activity and wasting their life doing nothing productive.

Groups of teenage girls waste their time giggling over nonsensical matters of fashion and the latest trends, their smiles appearing alien to him.

It was his first time to be in the middle of frivolous activities like these. The fact that he abhorred just being in one helped in keeping him confined behind the walls of the orphanage, or else inside the HQ. Near spent most of his living life indoors, and the sudden transition was hard getting used to. If not for the acquisition of his grades as well as performance to her, he would not have consented coming here amidst this chaos they call Winchester plaza. He couldn't fathom the idea that such place exist so near the orphanage and yet he failed to be aware. Had he been kept inside that long?

Near took a glance at Vera standing beside him, observing him.

"So, how do you find it? It looks lively, isn't it?" she inquired with a smile as he met her eyes with his.

"…Can we leave now?" he answered dismissively, not looking at her.

She sighed. At least she was able to confirm his natural dislike for socialization and interaction. But if he wanted to pass, he'll have to do as she says.

"Near, you have to do this or these sessions will be for nothing. You do want to learn how to interact, don't you?"

He said nothing.

"…For you to pass this subject, you will have to talk and earn the trust of five people in this plaza, enough for them to convince that you are the lost duke of England and you've come back to reclaim your rightful place. Failure to accomplish this within 2 hours will make you fail in this subject, and consequently the entire course." She narrated, then somewhat smiled, "What do you think?" it appeared like she was having a nice joke.

He looked at her, impassive, "It's ridiculous…" he mumbled.

She laughed musically at his response, "I'm kidding, Near... You know, you should learn how to... get along. You act so stiff for a human being!" she quipped.

Receiving nothing more than Near's blank stare, she sighed, as though she finally realized all her efforts to make him seem more human had not paid off. "I see. You're only interested in the lessons. How objective." She remarked.

Nothing but silence coming from him.

"_He's a one-track guy then._" She thought as though in conclusion as she glanced at him beside her. She couldn't help but notice how frail and sickly he looked underneath his pajamas.

"_And in broad daylight…" _amused, she continued observing him, _"If he'd only dress appropriately, he'd look fine."_

And then… it occurred to her.

"If you're not too preoccupied Near," she significantly let her words sink in before moving on, "I would like you to dress in something—_elegant_ as part of the completion of your studies."

It took a moment before he replied, "…How do you want me to look like?" the after tone in his voice was disquieting.

She smiled wanly nevertheless, "I want you to appear presentable… in fact, I require for you to look like this _right now_."

He stared at her, an incredulous look bordering near the expression of anxiety in his eyes, to which he was able to conceal merely due to the fact that he had been doing so for years.

This woman was not only writhing with suspicions; _she was crazy. _

"There's a nearby men's boutique shop near here. If you wish, I'll accompany you." Her tone was every bit the professional statesman, someone who didn't appear to care no matter how ridiculous it is she was proposing. Near, feeling the bite of karma rehashed back to him, now felt like the one being frustrated at her complete lack of emotional display.

How can she appear so languid and disregarding when they were talking about changing the only comfortable set of clothes he had for years for something as stupid as _elegant clothes_? His faithful wardrobe of pajamas were the only things he would ever agree to wearing ever since, and he had never broken that loyalty except during the instances where he would take it off so he could bathe and afterwards wear a bathrobe.

He _never_ took off his pajamas. If it was necessary, he would just top it off with other clothing but not remove it, like what he did on the last meeting. Other than that, his pajamas were with him day in and out.

Simply put, Near likes to keep his profile strictly by himself and does not allow another option to trespass beyond its boundaries. Anything that were thought or suggested by others were quickly discarded, and it happens that his single clothing preference lie on the comfy white pajamas. Other than that, he disregards anything else.

To take these off now to wear something new and alien to him would be _very _ridiculous--even if was for the sake of completing the studies he had undertaken merely for the sake of quelling the rampaging voices in his mind. It would almost be tantamount to asking to change his name.

"_I hope she realizes this…" _thinking the thoughts in his mind, Near headed to the men's boutique across the street, followed by Vera who was obediently taking after his figure.

--

--

--

--

End notes: Once again, I have decided to end it there. Information regarding the next deadline and other related stuff are updated in my profile. I guess that's all…;D Thank you for reading this chapter!


	7. Boutique

Disclaimer: Death note is owned by Ohba Tsugumi and Obata Takeshi. I own the OC.

--

October 27, 2009

Author's foreword: hellooo everyone! I'm finally back! And believe me when I say I did not like being absent for so long. v_v it actually startled me when I found out I had been gone for roughly **one** year in the making. It was too long I got the impression someone already proclaimed me dead or in coma or something. (grieves in advance) but now I'm here thank you all for waiting! I feel I have so much more to say and owe so much explanation to you guys and gals but let's leave that chat for later neh?

(feeling pressured again) well… hopefully… this chapter is good enough for your waiting. (hides) please read it slowly. enjoy~

* * *

**Half broken Memories **

_A fiction created by Hideki Tensei_

**Chapter 7**

**Boutique**

The Boutique was located in the finer, less busy part of the lively Winchester Plaza, at an area where the white tiled walk marking the pathway of several esteemed establishments set a clear boundary of formality and the not. It was also where the other high class restaurants and shops were found along with its decorated anterior and attractive awnings to appeal to the varied yet sophisticated tastes of the rich.

When Near saw where they were heading, he found himself preferring it over the streets where he was surrounded by noise.

This place, was at the very least, quiet.

Although the people were more apt to stare at him…but it can be tolerated; Wammy's orphans, especially the new ones, were keen to do that to him; he was used to it.

Contenting himself to be guided along, Near followed his instructor when, along the way, they passed by a toy and variety shop window… and where, with all Near's logic and focus, he couldn't help taking a glance at the assortments piled on display, the interest playing along his eyes all too apparent: there were different kinds of building blocks, rubiks cubes, various houses and blank puzzles displaying degrees of difficulty – especially the difficulty. There was a large blank puzzle there that proved to be worthy of his undertaking…

Slowly, with an effort that was nearly physical, Near wrenched his stare away from the things he once considered one of his hobbies and returned his sight forward, forcing to stash away his apparent inclination towards the things.

That was reckless of him…Later, he will try to explain that behavior when he nearly fell for his subjective, feeling sense but fail to realize that it was a normal reaction for someone who had been confined within dark gray walls for a few years.

Right now, he could only hope his instructor had not noticed anything about that particular reaction…even at this stage, he couldn't afford to trust information to her so indiscreetly—especially her.

…which brings in the topic…

Near was suddenly aware that he was immersed in this new environment filled with temptations and curious new things, and his emotions were bound to betray his mind at some point. There were also an infinite number of threats to his safety, and eventhough Roger had secured the provision of a bodyguard to be taken with him in this situation, it still did not eliminate the risk.

It was best to be cautioned.

--

**_\Near's P.O.V.\_**

The boutique was predictably high class, given it belonged to its contemporary parts. Automatic sliding glass doors met their entrance, which slid aside to give way. The airconditioned smell was instantly refreshing and cool.

"Welcome to Rouen's Boutique…" the uniformed woman by the entrance pleasantly greeted, along with a bow and a gesture, "Please feel free to try our latest trends in men's…"

Ignoring her blatantly, Near continued his way towards the lobby when a hand gripped his sleeve from behind.

He didn't need to look behind to know who it was.

So much for trying to save time related to unneeded explanation...

Vera, his instructor, gave him what would have been a disapproving glare.

"_Conduct Violation." _those eyes firmly said…

For one moment, he was tempted to voice out his opinion, right in front of the attendant, that staying would be a crucial waste of time, especially for his part. But upon seeing her, he quickly decided against it.

He sighed, knowing there was no end to this. Moving back to her side, he resigned to listening to the detailed and flowery descriptions of the usherette, who seemed to be eyeing him more at the moment. Apparently, his ignoring her only served to catch her attention more.

He sighed again. He had a feeling this was going to be a difficult task…

--

**_\Vera's P.O.V.\_**

Seeing her own student casually walk out in front of the talking attendant had been an insult to Vera's firm ethical and etiquette principles, and the reaction was automatic. Swiftly, she tugged on Near's sleeve and motioned him to stay.

_That should be enough foreword if he's so intelligent,_ she was thinking.

The boutique had been one of the many properties of the Rothschilds, and eventhough she was technically one of its owners who were given the full authority to do anything they want when they were in its bounderies, that was beside the point. Afterall, they were here to conduct their ongoing study sessions, and this behavior was no excuse.

But honestly though… eventhough she had considered it partly amusing to let him partake in a task that required him to change those clothes she disliked, she was worried for him.

It will definitely be a difficult task for someone like Near, who, from her impression and observations, was someone who was _very_ used to the way he likes to live his life.

_Vera had noticed it; when Near came back to the orphanage, he didn't even bother changing his clothes, which were wet and soggy, maybe from the rain. He seemed to be in dire need of doing something from the looks of it, enough for him to disregard the fact that he might catch a cold from wearing wet clothing... He seemed so determined to do or say something at that moment that Vera thought it would be best to be indifferent of that fact, so she did._

_But instead, Near didn't say anything afterwards. He had just stared at her then, and then he was acting more cooperative than usual…_

Now Near would have to change the preference he had cling to for so long.

Anything outside of that preference was bound to have its repercussions… but, Vera placed her trust on the expertise of the attendants in the boutique to aid him in this dilemma, as she was sure they would.

She could only hope he would cooperate with them…

--

After a long while, the necessary arrangements were finally done. The attendants who were once standing in line by the hall now began to mobilize, indicating one thing: It was finally time to change.

The realization struck a guttering anxiety in Near, bothering him… he didn't know it was possible, but he was.

And as he was guided to the room, he will probably never admit to himself just how anxious he really was.

---

The first 10 minutes had probably been the memory Near wanted the _least_ to preserve, the next 20 probably the most agonizing phase he experienced so far.

Even the male/female attendants who had assisted in the "procedure" would have probably agreed with him, as they had suffered more than he could ever imagine.

"No, I don't want it_." _Near was saying, for the 5th time, to a weary looking attendant.

"Then how about this sir?"

"No, it's not long enough."

"But sir, this is the longest Armani brand we have in here…"

"I will not wear it if it's not loose." he retorted resolutely.

"Then what about this one? It's our most famous brand…"

"It's not white."

"Sir, all our apparels here are black…"

"If it's not white then I will not wear it."

The attendants looked at each other as if to confirm what they both have in mind.

"The only white clothing we have, sir, serves as an undershirt."

There was a momentary silence, and they were about to conclude that their client had realized he made a mistake and that he was just having one of his finicky episodes to have caused him to be the first to suggest buying an undershirt in their boutique, when Near spoke.

"That's fine with me," Near replied bluntly, "Please let me have it."

It must be the courteous word he had said so casually for the first time since his constant rejecting of their offer, or the hint of courtesy in his voice, that they finally handed it to him.

Nimbly, Near picked up the long sleeve shirt using his thumb and forefinger and surveyed it almost queerly before placing it on the couch. Then he continued to sit with his knees to his chest on the couch and stared ahead, his posture unmistakably that of unshakeable resolution.

The female head attendant stood by to witness all these, thinking it would be futile to do anything in this case.

It was prudent to be wise.

The client, as she observed according to her keen judgment from years of experience dealing with different types of customers, was not stubborn… he simply liked _one _set of clothing. Just one.

"Sir, it seems from the way you chose earlier that you preferred _only _white clothing?" the attendant approached amiably, smiling as she did so.

The man named Near didn't even look at her, or seemed like he was paying attention as he fumbled with his hair.

But he replied. "Yes, I do."

There was _progress_.

She was afraid he would stay still and become a fossil, sitting the way he does and the way he stared. But he turned out more cooperative than she thought. Now then, for the next step… she approached him again, as though probing gently, "If I'm not mistaken… you do not want to change your current clothes, am I correct?"

There was a slight shift on his face as though the question caught his attention. But it was enough.

He certainly didn't even look like the type who wanted to get dressed…

"But you're doing this for that woman who accompanied you here?"

Silence.

That struck a huge significance, the attendant saw. Near didn't say anything for a while, even hesitated twirling his hair, which indicated that it _was_ true.

The head attendant paused for a while, processing her findings. So apparently, the main proprietor's sister, had an odd client who had strange mannerisms, and who appeared like they had an agreement between them that he will get dressed, against his wishes.

But she wasn't one to muse over petty things.

"I believe I have just the solution for you…" quickly finding the perfect opportunity, she launched on her plan, and started going over the steps again…

--

_**/Near's P.O.V./**_

In the first place, Near was reluctant, almost dubious about the relevance of this session. It was _obvious_ from the way his tutor behaved that she was testing his limits. And inspite his pride, he had to admit it was working; he was _repulsed_. If he allowed his clamoring feelings to overwhelm him for one second, he would have bolted out of this place straight to the orphanage and crawl up to a fetal position and forget this ever happened.

Because changing his clothes—the _only_ clothes he would ever consent to wearing ever since he knew how to—would be tantamount to forcing him to change a part of him. And he obstinately rejected the idea.

It was like breaking into the barriers of his comfort and principles all over again…

And the fact that he had to hide that made it worst.

He _must_ hide it; showing he felt repulsed over changing his clothes to the general public, most of all to her, could not only affect his grades but might also be exploited as a form of weakness. Showing it to them would be like admitting that he _did_ have this odd weakness… it was the least he could do.

But the painful thing was, he knew it had to be done… There really was no other choice. As of the moment, he was faced with an opponent he couldn't bear to lose: himself.

And unless Near was going to be any proficient and clear headed in facing the complexities of the case, he had to do this.

So, despite all that was said and done, despite what he kept reinforcing himself to do, why does he feel like a foreign material was forcefully stuck around his body now?

Near stood in front of the arc of mirrors inside the dressing room, not finding the strength or relevance of moving at all. He was alone in the room, but he felt like he was not.

He thought the loathsome feeling would end after he wore the confounded dress, but it turned out this moment was the climax of that tragedy.

Reaching for his groomed hair, he grabbed one of its locks and began to twirl it as though in compensation for all this intrusion. But even that couldn't eliminate the feeling of disgust.

_The man standing in front of him was dressed handsomely in a crisp black tie, along with the white long sleeve as the undershirt. His silver hair, curly from years of habitual twirling, was combed straight and parted to the side so it was no longer disheveled and didn't cover his eyes. That, and the slight make-up the attendant had applied…_

_Overall, an image of a prince, who somehow had a look of undying determination in his eyes to the point that he appeared like he was grimacing, which didn't quite match the elegance of his dress._

It was a surreal feeling. To Near's eyes, the other man facing him was a stranger. It was not him. He couldn't believe it; he didn't want to.

It was like a repulsive thing had settled over his body, that even the undershirt couldn't suppress.

The presence of the white undershirt, which had a close, striking resemblance to his favorite clothes and the only ones he would agree to wear in this boutique, was not enough. He could still feel the heaviness of the black jacket over him. It made him sick.

There really was no use resisting, though… immeasurable effort had been invested just to make him wear this… even the female head attendant had her own share of embarrassment as she had been the one to generously offer her help in helping him change.

That part didn't matter; it was the _after_ feeling of wearing it.

Once more, Near looked back at the mirror, twirling his hair lazily. A hint of grimace marked his smooth face as he stood rigid, as though daring the image to go away with his show of pertinence…

After several seconds of staring, he sighed wearily and visibly relaxed.

_What to do now? _

The image surely wouldn't go away.

It was him after all. Near had at least that amount of self awareness to admit the obvious…

He sighed again. This time, he willed himself to move.

There was at least one more obstacle left. The thought made him weary. Moving slowly, Near made his way out of the dressing room and into the lobby, his left hand still working on curling his hair in an effort to remain calm and keep up this poker face.

When he reached the bottom of the stairs, his sight automatically locked on the only sitting figure in the vast lobby of the boutique.

_Vera._

Did his chest suddenly felt tighter, or was it the effect of the jacket on him?

Thoughts that didn't have anything to do with the case tumbled down his mind unwelcome.

_How would she react if she saw him? Or would she notice at all?_

Either way, Near thought it was _rational_ to feel embarrassed now…

_---Especially now._

For the first time, he was at a lost for words, or thoughts, as he stood in the shadows of the stairs, immobilize in place.

--

**_\Vera's P.O.V.\_**

Vera had been reading one of the magazines on the rack in the lobby to pass time while she waited for Near. Apparently, the magazine had served its purpose to provide leisure or rather distraction for clients like her and she found herself interested in reading it for awhile when she remembered the time.

…_And the party._

She realized, with impending anxiety, that she must attend a party later this evening… an important event she had radically forgotten in the midst of her sessions with Near. In fact, it would start two hours from now. It was an important party for her elder brother, and she knew she must attend it at all costs…

But what about Near?

_He would have to come along. _The answer was swift and obvious.

Of course. And he was dressed for it, after all… it was a great opportunity for the advancement of the lessons and also his exposure to public, but she wasn't so sure about his still-developing manners and etiquette… maybe he will have to be left on one corner for that…

Just then, something caught her peripheral vision and dismissively, she assumed it was the head attendant, or someone.

Glancing at her wristwatch, it had already been nearly an hour since Near went into the dressing room.

_What's taking them so long?_ She wondered and was about to go about the task and finding out for herself when she stood up and saw someone standing by the stairs.

The first glance didn't quite sink in; she had a fleeting thought he was just another client, maybe another unusual one.

Or… _he_ could be an _it; _a statue ornament, judging from it's rigidly, unmoving nature… But immediately after, just as she was turning away from him, the information got caught and connected.

Vera swung her sight back to the man. And for a second, she managed to gape her mouth to an "o".

_Speechless._

Inclining her head as though the movement would change the angle, she looked at him again, this time taking a step closer to prove she was seeing it right.

It was not a trick of light.

"_Near?"_

The man she called Near didn't reply but began twirling his hair, _slowly_, like he was measuring every forward and backward motion in centimeters.

Moving closer, she found his features resembled him…maybe it _was_ him.

"Is that you?" she called out softly. She had no intention to make it sound like she just found out her student had just transformed into a female, but it showed in her voice anyway.

_Near_ instinctively avoided her stare. It was also possible she just saw him flinch from the sound of her voice.

In her incredulous state, she was able to notice it and immediately jumped at an apology, "Oh, I'm sorry!" She threw a little laugh, "That was rude. I didn't mean to."

Just the same, there was no reaction from him but his face appeared to have darkened… she couldn't really tell from the gloom.

"But _Near_," she began again; she couldn't help it. It was like seeing another version of Near.

"You look very—_handsome." _She commented sincerely. And it was true. He looked so different from his usual, disheveled self that she still couldn't believe she had just said that comment.

"You do." She repeated in confirmation and looked at him, "Well done. You look very decent in it."

This time, the dark shade on Near's face grew darker and he deliberately shifted his face to the side, as though to avoid facing her, or something.

She thought she heard an audible grunt.

"…Have I passed the test now?" Near spoke, rather tightly like he was chewing on big mound of gum. In the silence and gloom, it was already audible for her to hear him, eventhough his voice sounded like a murmur.

"Uh… yes. Yes of course." she replied, for the second time stumbling over her words again, "You passed the test, Near." She smiled.

"But," she continued, aware he had shifted his face now, "We will have another session today…"

She decided to cut beating around the bush.

"We'll be attending a party, and there will be lots of important guests…" she trailed off, careful in choosing her words.

Near looked like he needed sympathy right now; from the way he was acting so rigid and tense, it was clear he had enough of today. But she had to at least give him an option if he wanted to suffer more or not, didn't she?

"Would you still like to come with me to the party, Near?"

Silence.

"_He's weighing his options again…" _Vera observed, not for the first time. And then wondered, again, if she was making the right choice… His character left too much suspicion.

But then he asked, his tone completely different now, "What is it for?"

She had seen that coming; the man was inquisitive and sharp, at most… he grew more questioning these days though.

"It's for the celebration of my brother Adolf's success. It's also his birthday today."

Near grew silent again, as though he was analyzing her simple, honest answer.

_Really, what more could he get from it?_

But at the very least he seemed positive about it…

"I'll go with you…." He replied.

Now he moved into the light and she could see him; he appeared a lot more striking than from the shadows. He was as if he might be another person other than Near… the impact of the clothes and the straightening of his hair had done a lot of difference.

Vera realized she was staring, quite rudely, at him.

"…if it's alright." He added, along with that smirk.

And she thought that didn't sound so bad.

--

**_/Near's P.O.V./_**

Near was well aware of the fact that Wammy's policies and guidelines for L's preservation included safety priorities for every public undertaking, such as this one---_especially_ this high risk one wherein he was under the tutelage of an instructor he distrusts.

---which explains the accompaniment of a bodyguard, who was currently tagging along with him as of the moment.

But now, he decided if he was going to gather substantial information for this case, as well as avoid any possible inconveniences, he would have to drop the bodyguard and go alone, along with his tutor, Vera, to the place where the party will be held.

The choice he would make was crucial, he knew, to his safety. He would be exposed to the danger and threat of having his identity discovered as the current L… his life would be in danger. But if that would mean getting information, Near didn't mind at all.

He was willing to bet on it.

Besides, if indeed Vera had intentions to take his life or expose him, she would've done so on an earlier notice… other than that, she showed she was unaware that he was anyone other than "Near". And he greatly doubted she would be interested in kidnapping him for ransom or other properties Quillsh might possess.

If anything, she was far wealthier than him.

Apparently, her interests lie on teaching him. _So far._

That was enough.

Now the problem was how to convince the bodyguard to leave his side without letting Roger and the entire orphanage or the FBI sending minions to rescue him from the alleged kidnapping brought about by his unexplained absence…because he certainly cannot tell them he was going to investigate his own tutor by going to her party. This was _his_ investigation…

Inevitably, the bodyguard would have been given strict instructions to follow and protect Near to the death from the moment he was hired. Eventhough it was highly likely he also did not know Near was L… still, that would not be enough to convince him to abandon Near because of investigations sake…

If it had been Lester, he could have been more lenient and give the chance to let Near go.

But this one was more difficult to manage.

Sighing, Near decided there was only one way to go. And he had only one wireless phone to do it.

--

"Roger, this is Near."

Upon hearing the same voice that commanded and mobilized police forces all over the world, Roger's attention immediately snapped in place, even though the action made his heart nearly jumped right out of his chest.

"Near, what is it?"

A brief pause.

"Something happened… Lester will be coming over now to take the place as my bodyguard from now on." Near narrated bluntly, "I want you to fire the current one I have. His services will no longer be required."

_Bluntly. Yet straight to the point._

Only Near could ever say those words… Roger's heart grew cold and apprehensive at the suggestion, but eventually he agreed. He was well aware Quillsh's testament also included complying and cooperating to every undertaking that involved aiding L in his investigations.

_And_ _Near as the current L…_

He had no choice. As much as he wanted to protect Near from potential harm…

"Alright…" Roger didn't hide his sigh, "Let me speak to your bodyguard."

**--**

**_Few minutes later, _**

Near hung up the phone, satisfied.

Now all that's left was to ensure his behind doesn't catch on fire. He must constantly watch his back on his own from this moment onwards…

Currently, he only had the wireless phone as his means to contact the FBI in case anything happens. In a way, the phone would be his only weapon, as his body was undoubtedly out of the question as he was frail and not built for any potential combat.

Originally, the phone served as the contact medium for the members of the SPK to be able to reach him anytime while he was in the middle of the study sessions. But now it looks like he'll use it to contact them.

_That should be enough… _he thought. That would lessen the risks of him dying or being exposed unnecessarily.

But he really doubted that was the reason he was so determined to go with her.

Near knew he would do anything to gather any possible information he could get his hands on, even if it means placing a risk on his life. Besides, he didn't place much stock on his life in the first place…

What he _cared_, right now, was to verify his suspicion on one person: Vera Nieve Rothschild, the daughter of a multimillionaire turned teacher who went to their orphanage to provide private tutoring…to Near, most exclusively. _The current L: Near._

The whole scenario reeked of attempted deceit. Or better yet, espionage…

He had yet to do a thorough investigation on her, but he might as well be the one to initiate it now before he lets them take care of it…Near was aware the orphanage had already done that part for him, but he had a feeling she had something else to hide…

Besides, it wasn't so bad. Near found out he was confident she had something to do with all this. If it turns out there wasn't, he would look for it.

Because just like L's suspicion of Light, Near was positive she had one. He would stake his life on it.

* * *

_Author's endnotes:_

Honestly, this chapter took 3 runs/retakes. I started it a week ago, and even then my unpolished and rusty writing skills couldn't even get Near's complicated personality burning in my mind! It reached more than 3000 words of pure nonsense, then I gave up. The second try was a lot easier but it felt like it was more of a rambling chapter so I did it again with foot notes this time to keep me guided and prevent my mind from rambling again. Well, this is the result, and hopefully it's okay… (sweatdrop)

But really, this absence is like a crippling disease of the mind… (shiver)

By the way, I did some minor revisions in the earlier chapters, thinking I had to do some cleanup of the "corny" parts after neglecting the story for so long. Hehe. It's nothing much, the changes do not alter the plot any way. I think I had to beta-read it now than later, and it would be a good way to exercise the dullness of my skills as a beta-reader, now that I'm on the subject. Well, that's enough ramble. I'm feeling sleepy…

(Oh. And CLair if you're reading this, remember the crippling disease I mentioned here… It's _true_. Believe me~ so you better update too if you don't want your skills to get rusty…

---Did that just sounded like a threat? n_n)

I'll strive to keep the next update within this week.

_**Thanks for reading! :)  
**_


	8. Distraction

Disclaimer: Death note is owned by Ohba Tsugumi and Obata Takeshi. I own the OC.

--

October 30, 2009

Author's notes: some of the scenes, especially the last part, are fast paced. So please read slowly… thank you. n_n

* * *

**Half broken Memories **

_A fiction created by Hideki Tensei_

**Chapter 8**

**Distraction**

The wait was becoming terribly long. Or maybe it had something to do with wearing that dress…

Uncomfortably, Near repositioned himself in his seat inside the limousine, his expression in a grimace as he strived to keep from taking off this thing they called the formal Black tie. Earlier, he could contend with the knowledge he had just worn something alien to his body with Vera's presence to offer as an effective distraction and keep him embarrassed long enough not to notice it.

But now he was here, all alone inside the limousine… and Vera said she'd come back in an hour but it's already too long. His attention was irrevocably drawn to the suit.

It was _so_ uncomfortable, like it was made of stingy, irritating fabric instead of silk that dug on his skin…

After a long while, Near sighed, resigning to his fate to wear the thing throughout; it was not like he had any choice in the beginning.

While he was at it, he thought it wiser not to move too much and cause the suit to rub into his skin. Eventhough he still had the undershirt on, Near could feel it, as morbid as that sounds.

So he was sitting rigidly in his seat when the door opened and a fresh feminine scent waft in from outside.

In stepped Vera, dressed in what appears to be a long tube-cut green gown and her hair done up in a neat and stylish fashion. Her presence was instantly intimidating as it was annoying.

"Sorry for the wait," she smiled genially as she got in and sat beside him, "Did I take too long?"

She busily rearranged some things in her tiny bag before asking another question, "Near, by the way, are you sure you won't be taking your bodyguard along? Is that all right?" her tone was genuinely concerned.

It caught him off guard for a second. Earlier, he was sure he was suffering because she intended him to undergo it. Now she was concerned? And what was with that anxiety he sees in her movements… contrary to her calm, composed ambience, this was not like her.

_Nervous? Why though? _Near thought.

"Yes, I'll be fine…" he replied, taking the opportunity to survey her face, and her dress.

Where did she get that gown? In the boutique? She must have had it there beforehand or she won't be able to prepare that fast… Thinking about it, she might be the owner of the boutique too, judging from the smooth and easy way she dealt with the attendants and the manager. If that was the case, it was safe to assume she was also responsible for the purchase of his suit.

_Fair enough._

"Even so…" he stalled to catch her complete attention, deciding to employ her own schemes back to her.

"I trust I will be safe in your hands, lady Vera…" he looked directly into her eyes, hoping to appear sincere when he was searching for an expression.

His tutor stared back at him, her expression on the brink of shock though she had cleverly covered her tracks afterwards with a dismissive smile.

"Of course." she replied impassive.

--

**_/Vera P.O.V./_**

The ride to the party was predictably uncomfortable with the newly transformed Near sitting beside her... she should've known.

She was the type to be easily distracted by abrupt changes, and Vera knew this incident was beyond her control. The outcome of the session turns out more than what she expected it seems…

At this rate, Vera must transfer in another seat, _far from him,_ to spare her concentration from being ruined for the upcoming major event…

With her brother's uptight, strict personality monitoring her every action, she would need all the courage she can get right now to perform the act well, and Near's presence wasn't helping.

_Not that—she was feeling any attraction for him, her own student…_

True, he did look very handsome. Just a little more tweaking on his manners and she would've fallen for him. He was like those white knights in shining armor she had seen on TV when she was little: gallant, noble and surreal…a scene from a fairytale, if he chose not to move or begin twirling that hair.

And besides, he had looked that way just _very_ recently.

…It couldn't be helped.

So, she could just excuse herself in the meantime…

"Near, I'll just talk to the driver for a while. Will you be alright staying at the back?" without waiting for his reply, Vera conveniently relocated herself in the seat nearest to the driver and engaged in what would've been a petty conversation.

She didn't even dare look back.

--

Like every other major celebration, there were fireworks randomly being released to light up the velvety night sky where the party was being held, and classical music played at the background and some other grand stuff too mundane for Near to take notice.

Vera got out of the limo first and he followed suit. The modest atmosphere that greeted them was nearly an exaggeration; but as she had expected, there were few guests by the entrance. They were not crowding as is usually seen in major events and occasions; they were probably assembled in the square where the pool and the tables were, as to be expected of her brother's organized way of thinking. Vera took the opportunity by themselves to give her tutee a briefing.

"Near," she said after she was done explaining the important details, inching closer to him as she did so. When Near shifted his face to look at her, she casually slipped her arm over his, so they look like Near was her escort. The action made him jump a little.

"Let's look like this as we go over the party, shall we?" she was almost requesting with the tone of her voice… like she was tense about something else.

"Of course." Near replied without further ado.

--

**_/Near P.O.V./_**

Basically, the idea was to go along with what Vera wanted as much as possible. Providing she had given him a thorough and explicit list of the _dos_ and _don'ts_, it shouldn't be a problem, especially since only a few of it required dealing with other people.

But of course, if there was a situation that required defying her "briefings" for the sake of acquiring information, Near would not hesitate to do it.

This was a party after all…

He could find many excuses to cover up his possible misgivings later, if he would have to.

But right now, it was fun to see her in a state of agitation, which was rewarding for his part after what happened earlier…

Though he did wonder why she was so…

_There must be something she's tensed about. _he thought, casually glancing around the crowd as though to look for the source, _What is it?_

If possible, the important and renowned "guests" she was talking about all looked the same to him. Only their physique and faces differed, so much that Near found it boring. Seeing them engage in petty conversations made him turn his face away--

--to which his sight landed on another woman approaching them.

"Vera! So glad to see you…"

"Anne!" Vera instantly lit up upon seeing her friend and ran up to meet her in an embrace, "I didn't know you were invited! I never thought I'd see you here…"

"I did." She giggled, "After all, this is your brother's birthday…" Anne Beaumont was quick to notice the tall man with Vera, "So. Is he..?"

"My student." Vera amiably pointed out.

"Oh…" she could only say, stretching the _o._

Near took one look at the two and had a good guess what it was all about.

_Hmph. Women. _

"Oh there's my brother!" Vera suddenly cried out and her hand instantly slipped away from Near without a moment's notice.

"I must meet with him. Anne, would you be with Near for a while? Here, this is my phone. I won't be long."

"Sure. Take your time." Anne took the phone, grinning as she did so.

But Near's sight lingered to where Vera went to meet with her brother, a tall pale man in his mid thirties with dark hair and eyes…

The eyes especially held his attention.

The elder Rothschild possessed the same elegant aura around him, he observed, and it showed in the graceful, dignified way he carried himself as he strolled from one guest to another, a careful smile on his thin face.

Even from a distance, Near could tell he had seen him before. His face looked familiar… Near hardly went outside of the HQ or the orphanage so the chance of possibly crossing paths with him was nil. Maybe he had met him recently…

But he couldn't be bothered with that now.

The noise around him was starting to make his head hurt it seems...

Continuing to observe them instead, Near watched as Vera hurriedly went beside her brother, who appeared calm and dignified still despite what his actions and gestures indicated… he leaned over to his sister to whisper something and they went to a private area to talk.

If only he could hear what they were talking about…

From afar he could see him and Vera conversing in what appears to be in low tone voice. It looked like a serious issue.

Just then, he had been forgetting the other woman named Anne, who had already inched closer to him since he had lapse into thinking.

_Women's advances, hn? _Near was not too ignorant of the idea, he was even mildly interested in it. But he had no time for this.

"So… _Near_." Anne deliberately emphasized his name in a drawl as she drew closer, "Are you doing anything tonight…"

_**---Beep----**_

Recognizing the signal, Near immediately took out the cellular phone in his pocket and saw the caller.

_Gevanni._

Taking one look at Anne, bluntly, he had time to recognize the shock and disappointment in her eyes before he deliberately took a step backward.

"Excuse me." Without sparing another look, Near left her and located for an isolated enough place to receive the call.

He didn't have to imagine how she had felt. The call's timing was just perfect.

--

Near chose to settle in the isolated front porch of the mansion, where square hedges concealed him from outside at the same time provided view to the place Vera and her brother were talking.

When he had assured he was alone, Near took out his phone and flipped it open.

"Gevanni, it's Near."

Taking another glance to his surroundings, he saw no one around...

The set up would do. There was no time to be picky.

Near glanced at Gevanni's current location from the phone: _Vorkuta, Russia._

_So, he was still doing his job… but he didn't expect him to call this early…_

_**Something was wrong.**_

Near glanced at the spot where his tutor was engaging in conversation and decided to monitor their actions as he listened.

"Near, there's something suspicious going on here…" Gevanni's voice sounded blurred by the howling wind followed by the fragmented sounds of static in his background.

To top it off as if it wasn't any worse, the abrupt sound of fireworks erupting in the sky blew Gevanni's next words into a mewling. It continued to explode on the night sky until Near could barely hear him.

_**The noise of the fireworks will cram the transference signal… Damn it.**_

_If this continues… he would lose connection with him._

"I can't hear you, Gevanni. I want you to make it quick. What's happening?" Near had a feeling he didn't have much time…

The after silence of the fireworks was disturbing rather than comforting.

Eventhough the display had ended, he knew it was only temporary as they prepare to load new batches. He had at least less than half a minute before the noise erupts again. Already his ears were ringing from the sound of explosion that it hurt.

_**The fireworks… it was the fireworks…**_

_**Someone's behind this…**_

Reflexively, Near's sight flicked back to Vera, who was still engaging in conversation with her brother. But now from the looks of their actions, they appeared to be fighting verbally.

_**What great timing.**_

"Gevanni!" Near repeated in haste when he wasn't answering.

"_Yes_, I got hold of it! _Damn_ this blizzard…" the distant voice of Gevanni spoke, "Near! I just had to fix the portable satellite dish! I think there's something preventing this line from coming through… not just the transference signal. Anyway, the research—" the rest of his voice was wrecked by static.

"Gevanni, what happened?" Near tried to keep his voice low to keep from being heard, but it seemed it didn't matter. There was another round of fireworks blowing up in the sky, along with the deafening sound that killed comprehension.

"---gone, Near. The research is---"

Another explosion overlapped all sounds. Near struggled to hear him better by pressing the phone to his ear.

"I can't hear you, speak louder."

"—gone, Near! The research institute is gone!"

The next round of fireworks, the finale, was the loudest. Afterwards, only silence remained.

"What..?" Near asked dumbly in shock. If Gevanni was paying attention to what Near just said, he'd notice it was the first time their leader had said something so irrelevant and equally dumb while in a tight situation during a case.

For Near, it was possible to say he was not human in that aspect; he _never_ made a mistake… or rather… He does not make unnecessary mistakes during an emergency situation. Near _**never **_asks anything twice, nor does he mention anything the second time, _especially_ during a time like this.

But that was irrelevant right now.

Gevanni was paying attention to maximizing the use of his vocal cords to make his message pass through the noise on Near's side.

"The research institute is **NO** longer there! I checked on it again as you ordered. _But it's gone_. Everything's gone."

"…How do you know it's gone?" Near interrupted yet with another question.

Another strange phenomenon, if Gevanni was observant enough… But they were both in a state of urgency and anxiety to pay attention to such petty things.

"The whole area…was _burned_ down, Near." Gevanni was saying, the inadequacy apparent in his voice. "I-I didn't know how it happened. It appeared like it was arson, I believe it happened in the middle of the night I think but with this blizzard—"

"No."

"W-What?"

"It was not arson." Near pointed out, one of the pieces clicking in place as comprehension dawned, "It was deliberate."

_It couldn't have been arson, he was positive about it..._

_There was much more to this case than letting it all end here…_

"Near…" Gevanni audibly sighed, his voice blending with the howling of wind in his background, "I want to discuss this further right now but there's---" this time his voice was completely cut off by static.

Near was about to call Gevanni once again when an audible _click _thumped on the background and silenced the static.

"Hello?" a man's voice.

_It was not Gevanni._

Instantly, all Near's defenses sprang up and his eyes darted back to Vera's location; they seemed to be talking normally again. Nothing was wrong there.

But this sudden change in his call was _definitely wrong._

_Something---someone hacked into the line..!_

"Hello, is anyone there?" the man's voice continued, his tone pleading. His voice sounded like it was coming from the end of the tunnel.

_Another confusion…_

_**What was happening?**_

"Who is this?" Near asked tightly.

The voice continued when he heard the voice, growing in urgency, "Please, please help! My son! He's been _**kidnapped**_!" the indication hit like a slap for one second Near was almost positive it hit him.

_Not again._

_**The nature of this call… it was the same with the first call.**_

"I didn't know where to look…" the voice continued, "He just disappeared all of a sudden! I saw it with my own eyes, they took him and they… they…" he continued to sob.

_There was no static. No noise on the background… _

_**It was as if only the man's voice that connected and interrupted Gevanni's line…**_

_**Replacing him.**_

"Tell me your name so I can help you." Near was saying once again.

More sobs and broken words on the other end. "Please, please help…" it pleaded again desperately as though it didn't hear anything, "My son---"

_**--beeeeeeeep—**_

The line abruptly ended. Near, utterly confused by the turn of events, tried to make sense of it all and decided to wait for more.

There was nothing but the dull monotone on the phone.

_No, he had to know more. The caller's identity would be a vital clue!_

"Near?"

If felt like someone had just shouted his name in the still silence… but that can't be right. He turned around to verify his thoughts.

_It was Vera!_ The whole implication dropped down upon him.

_She was standing there! Just when he was talking on the phone!_

_How could he be so careless?! He forgot to watch over her during the last part of the call._

_Had she heard anything?_

_If so, how much of it did she hear?_

"…How long were you there?" instead Near tried to ask the question in his characteristic blunt tone, but it still sounded accusing in its own way.

To which his tutor inclined her head in bewilderment.

…_Or maybe surprise? Damn it, why couldn't he tell!_

"Near?" that tone of her voice again---_Innocently beguiling._

"Are you alright?"

The question seemed so far away, like it didn't matter.

_He wasn't alright. _

_Clues and pieces were jumping out at him from the dark, and all he could do was listen! But that wasn't the point._

Vera _might_ have seen him during that short period where he neglected to watch her…

And she _might_ have heard…there was always a possibility.

Suddenly, Near became aware of pain numbing his palms. He broke out of his daze, looked down at the source of his pain and saw he had been clenching his fist in a dead grip while staring at it.

"Arh… I'm fine." In his surprise, he could only unclench his fist and take a deep breath.

_Calm down. What's wrong with you?_

Why did he do that? He had unconsciously blanked out and hurt himself.

And his mind… _God._

It felt like it was spinning out of focus from all the confusion and abrupt incidents…

All these occurrences, these strange incidents piling on top of one another and may very well indicate a significant finding to the case, made an alarm trigger in Near's mind, something that concerned his safety… he was about to act on its volition by taking off his cellphone when he saw Vera standing before him, looking like she had lost something.

The image stuck in his mind.

And then he remembered what he came here for.

"Did you speak with your brother?" was the only thing Near could say. He wasn't aware he had forgotten to take out the phone.

_There was still chance he might be able to find out one last information…_

Vera nodded, acting like nothing happened, "Yes, I have…" her voice trailed off sadly.

"But it was nothing!" she recovered, "We just talked about a few important things…"

_So obvious… _Near thought distantly. Even without the tone of her voice, he could tell just by looking at her…She looked a little blurred though.

_But what did they fight about? Were these incidents related to it?_

_Did she make that call?_

Somehow, it didn't seem to matter. Nothing felt more pronounced than this stony feeling overcoming him.

Everything suddenly felt _heavy_…like his body had gained four times its weight.

"Near…?"

"Hn?" _damn_, he nearly blanked out again... And he wasn't even aware of it.

Besides… Why does her voice sound so _tiny_?

"_She was always so suspicious… What is she hiding…" _his thoughts formed drearily as he attempted to walk away from the standing figure that was Vera.

"Near, are you alright?"

_Vera's voice… _

_If possible, it sounded even tinier than before…_

"Near, wait, why are you---_Near!" _

It felt like a cement wall rammed into his chest, driving him forward, because he suddenly felt out of breath, like something heavy knocked off his lungs and pushed the air out of it. It _all_ felt so heavy then that he couldn't care less about trying to move… Even the act of breathing felt laborious. like

--And then he realized it.

_He had collapsed on the ground._ He was distantly aware of being shook by someone. Near thought he couldn't bother with that now… the case was more important than his safety.

_That's right. So right now he must contact Gevanni and call for a meeting to discuss the case…_

"Near hang on! I'll call for help…" Vera's worried face swam out of focus in front of him.

"…N..No…" he managed to reach out to her, prevent her from acting more suspicious but his hand fell short from reaching her before everything slowly faded into black.

He fainted.

"_Near_!"

* * *

Author's notes: …watta! Finally done. :) Okay this chapter is predictably confusing, so let's take a look at four events to take note of:

1. Near went along with Vera to her brother's party.

2. Gevanni called Near in the middle of it to inform about the disappearance of the institute.

3. Someone hacked the line during Gevanni's call, & it turns out to be the second anonymous caller related to the case.

4. Near fainted.

-that's all I can say for now…anything more and I might give possible spoilers...some of which you probably have guessed by now. Hn. Also, take note that I've changed Mildred's name to Anne Beaumont. But this change has nothing to do with the plot.

Next chapter will be taking its time until it gets published… please wait for it. n_n The plot will get heavier by then, I promise.

Haha… In the meantime, I'm starting to feel light headed too so I think I'll take that offer for a nice warm sleep…

…And thanks for reading! Review!

--


End file.
